Ghost of the Past
by Aeliia
Summary: When Eren and his family move to a secluded village in the countryside, Eren is more lonely than ever. But when he learns of a tragic event that occurred within his own home, he yearns to know more. Enter Armin Arlert, the ghost of a boy whose illness claimed his life.
1. Beside the Grave

Ghost of the Past

_Welcome, all, to my first chapter fic! I hope that you guys like it. I can't say when my updates will occur; they pretty much happen depending on my motivation but I'll try to be diligent. I have already written the first 3 chapters of this, and I hope to continue for a while if the story is well-liked. Reviews are greatly appreciated!_

"We're here, Eren."

Eren looked up from his book for the first time in hours to survey his surroundings. It was pretty; rolling green hills with flowers atop them, a forest in the distance and cottages sprinkled here and there, along with the main part of the village where the trade mart was.

"I don't like it."

"It's beautiful, Eren. You're still just upset about moving," Carla, Eren's mom replied. Mikasa, his younger adopted sister that seemed to outshine him in everything, smiled and pointed at a group of kids that waved to them as their carriage went by.

"She's right. You'll like it here soon enough," his dad replied.

"No, I won't. I'll hate it here until we move again," Eren retorted. His mom sighed and gave up, turning back towards the window and leaving the stubborn child to his brooding.

Eren's family had moved several times thanks to his dad's well known reputation as a doctor in the country. They had moved five times in total, counting this one. His dad was a busy-body, though, and enjoyed moving, so he didn't mind. Mikasa didn't seem to either, which of course bothered him. Leave it to her to cope with everything and leave him complaining.

It _was _beautiful, though. Eren had always loved places like these; especially his hometown, which had been a village similar to this one. The forest caught Eren's eye. He had always liked the woods as well. Something about nature just comforted him.

After about another ten minutes of continuing down the same road that had led past the majority of the village, the carriage made a turn and began to leisurely stroll downwards. Eren looked out the window as they bumped down the rocky road towards their new home. From what he could see, they were right by the forest, along with a pond that he hadn't noticed before.

"There's our new house, kids!" Grisha, Eren's dad exclaimed excitedly. As the carriage came to a stop, the family got out to look around. Eren looked at the house in which he stood in front of. It was a good sized cottage with what looked like two floors. The outside was painted a cool shade of beige which complimented the light colored wood on the porch very well.

"Well, what do you think, Carla?" Grisha asked, joining the rest of them to look at it.

"I love it," she whispered. The two kissed, earning a fake gag from the young boy.

The carriage horseman stepped down from the reins and went over to the family. "Would you like me to help you with your trunks?" he offered.

"Yes, if you don't mind," Grisha answered. As soon as all of the trunks were out of the back, moving them into the house was the next step.

"Mikasa, Eren, you'll be on the second floor, okay? Do you two need any help with your trunks?" Carla questioned. The two shook their heads and began to drag the heavy trunk up the stairs to the porch. Their dad strode over to them and began to help.

"I can do it myself!" Eren snarled.

"Okay, then, I'll help Mikasa. I would appreciate it if you would be more pleasant, Eren." With that, he picked up the younger girl's trunk and began to carry it up to the door before stopping and putting it down to unlock the house, then picking it back up and proceeding to the upstairs.

Eren huffed as he began to heave his trunk up the stairs before Mikasa came over and picked up the other side that was dragging against the wood.

"I said I didn't need any help!"

"You're scoffing the wood." Eren looked down to see that the first two steps had indeed received some minor damage, but nothing that wasn't fixable. He shrugged and glared at her.

"Put it down," he ordered. Despite his protests, Mikasa ignored him and helped him get it to the doorway before Grisha came back down and took it up. Eren sighed and gave up the fight, knowing he probably couldn't have dragged it upstairs anyways. Instead, he skipped ahead of his dad on the stairway and rushed up to claim which room he wanted. Mikasa wouldn't mind whichever one he picked; she never did.

There was a loft at the top of the stairs that overlooked the sitting area and entrance area. Eren reached the top of the stairs and found a small closet. Closing the door, he dashed into the hallway right next to it and opened all of the doors within it. On the right side was a door that led to a bathroom. Parallel to that was a bedroom. Deciding he wanted more privacy than that room had to offer, Eren rounded a corner at the end of the small hallway and came face to face with another door. Cautiously, as if trying not to disturb anyone who was within it, he opened it.

The room was perfect. A bed stood on the opposite wall of the entrance tucked into the left corner of the room. On the right was a bookshelf filled completely with books. Two windows were in the room; one right above the bed and one on the opposite wall from the door. A desk was directly under it, along with a chair.

"Jackpot!" Eren said enthusiastically. Mikasa stepped into the room and observed the surroundings.

"Seems like a bookworm's room," she said. "It'll be perfect for you." Mikasa strode out to claim the only other bedroom offered to her now. Eren snorted.

Forgetting all about his trunk waiting for him at the top of the stairs, he began to engross himself in finding books of his interest. Surprisingly, he ended up with at least half of the books on the shelf piled onto the desk in order of interest. Whoever had lived here before him certainly had an impressive collection, not to mention a good variety.

His dad came up to check on the boy nearly half an hour later.

"I see you've already begun to settle down here," he said with a smile. Grisha walked over to him and sat on the bed by his son, leaning over to look at the book he was looking at.

"Dad, you're in my personal space," Eren replied, looking up from his book about the ocean. He found it to be probably the most fascinating book on the whole shelf; aside from the one about volcanoes.

"Those books belonged to a boy about your age who passed not too long ago. The carriage driver said he loved reading and always had his nose in a book," his father mentioned casually while getting up to go look at the other books.

Eren instantly put the book down. "You mean… a dead boy lived in here?"

"Don't put it that way, just think about it like he passed them on to you, or something."

That didn't make Eren feel any better. Realizing this was the boy's old room, he began to feel uncomfortable and itched to get out from the now heavy atmosphere. His dad had told them that the furniture belonged to the previous owners, but he didn't mention that one of them was dead. Had he died in this very house? Or more specifically, this very _room_?

His train of thoughts began to take a disturbing turn as he imagined what kind of cruel fate this mysterious boy was met with. Shuddering, Eren laid the book down and told his father he was going for a walk to clear his mind. Maybe he could check out the forest.

But as Eren made his way outside and to the forest, the thought of the dead boy still plagued him. What if _he _had played in that very forest Eren was about to journey into? Would he find an old fort possibly constructed by him? What if he hadn't been dead and he and Eren could have become friends? Eren somehow felt like he had missed out on something.

"Stop thinking like this," he told himself sternly as he took his very firsts steps into the woods. Of course, everything was absolutely normal. There was no fort or book left behind, no trace that he had even ever stepped into the woods. Calmed by this fact, Eren walked back home after exploring for about an hour. He returned to find that his trunk had been moved into his room and that his mom was making dinner.

"Dinner is special tonight," she said. "We're having potato stew with roast to celebrate!"

Potato stew and roast was one of Eren's favorite meals just because it contained meat. Meat was a rare luxury, and his family only bought and cooked it to celebrate things. One of these things was moving.

As Eren and Mikasa dug into their plates, their parents looked strangely worried.

"Something wrong, Dad?" Eren asked, his mouth full of hot roast.

"Don't worry about it, it's nothing," he answered, allowing Eren to resume his vacuum-like duties to his meal. Mikasa looked over at them a couple times before devoting her complete attention back to her plate again.

As his mom cleared the table, Eren didn't miss the slight head movement Grisha did towards their bedroom. Apparently, she got the hint. Carla told the kids to start washing and drying the dishes. The two headed into the bedroom and shut the door behind them.

Eren and Mikasa sat at the table for a moment before his sister rose and took her plate to the sink, then motioned for Eren to do the same. He crossed the room and handed her his glass and plate before he began to creep over to their parent's bedroom door.

"What do you think that's about?" she asked, scrubbing the plates clean.

"I'm about to find out."

Mikasa turned. "Eren, that's wrong."

"Are you saying you aren't the least bit curious?" Eren responded, gesturing for his sister to come over to the door. "Don't turn the water off, make it seem like you're still doing them," he said as she made a move for the handle. She sighed and walked over, mimicking the stance Eren was now in with his right ear pressed to the door quietly.

"…keep them away from it," the conversation became audible through the door. It was Grisha's voice talking.

"You never said why, though. It could be a good place for them to spend some time together! You know, keep secrets from us, go through those piles of books in Eren's room," Carla argued.

"What are they talking about?" Mikasa whispered. Eren shushed her.

"Please, Carla, just tell them that they can't go near it for a while."

"Not until you tell me why we're keeping them from it."

"Because of the man!" Grisha's voice rose. Eren could tell he was getting distressed.

"What man?" His mom asked, her voice suddenly concerned.

"The man who committed suicide in this house. The blood is still there, no one ever bothered to clean it up! I'll have to do it myself!"

Mikasa let out a small gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. Eren stared at the door wide eyed. Were they talking about the boy? No, they said it was a man. He pressed closer to the slab of wood, eager to hear more.

"Where did you ever hear such a thing?"

"A man came by earlier and told me about what happened here. He told me that the boy's grandfather committed suicide in the basement about a week after the boy died and nobody even bothered to clean it up. As soon as he left, I went down into the basement to confirm it myself and you'll never guess, but it was true. The body was gone, but there was dried blood everywhere."

"That's terrible!"

Mikasa backed away slowly from the door and turned back to the sink, probably trying to forget she had ever heard anything. But Eren stayed. He wanted to know more. He wanted to know the secrets of this house and what else had happened. How had the boy died? Where did he die? And where was the basement?

Then Eren remembered passing a small cellar door on the outside of the house on his way to the forest. It didn't seem significant then, but now it seemed like there was hidden gold in it.

"Mikasa!" he called out quietly. Mikasa looked up, her face grim and ashen. She obviously didn't like this. "Please keep listening for me, I'll do anything for you later. Please."

Mikasa hesitated before saying, "Fine, but you owe me—wait! Where are you going?" she called out as Eren thanked her and rushed out the front door. He didn't answer, but he figured she got the general idea. He was going to the basement before it could be tampered with.

At times like this he did appreciate having Mikasa around. She was pretty reliable when it came to helping him out, although her fines were pretty hefty. The last time Eren had asked for her help was for her to do his homework for him, and that had earned him a week of desserts gone to her in secret.

Rounding the corner like he was going to the forest, Eren stopped at the wooden doorway leading to unknown secrets about the house. He paused before opening it, not really sure if he should go through with it. What if something he found down there scarred him for life? If what his dad had said was true, would he really be able to handle seeing blood everywhere?

Eren decided that yes, he would be able to handle it, and forged forwards. Shoving the raised trapdoor open with a heave, he was greeted with a musty smell and something else that could not be masked; death.

The foul stench of the odor caused him to hold his nose and he slowly descended the steps down. It was about ten steps going forwards at first, but then it turned right with another five steps. As he turned the corner, the frightened boy closed his eyes as if to hide himself from what was before him… which was a normal room with many bookshelves placed in the format of a library.

"Ha, see it's not so bad…" Eren whispered to himself while slowly moving through the room, stopping to study the bookshelves every once in a while.

_Crack. _

The boy looked down and saw it; dried blood everywhere on the ground below him and it was crackingas he stepped on it. _In it._

A bloodcurdling scream erupted in the air and bounced off the unforgiving stone walls. Eren wouldn't be able to recognize it as his own if he had heard it as someone else. The book dropped to the floor below him, crunching more of the horrible substance.

_Make it stop, make it stop_!Eren internally screamed. But he couldn't move, not until Mikasa was there a moment later dragging him up the stairs while he panted and gasped for more air to use to fuel his screaming. His throat was dry and his lungs ached.

"I want… to go home…" He finally managed to say. The two children's parents came rushing out a moment later.

"Eren! Mikasa! Are you alright?!" Carla asked, rushing quickly over to the scene. Grisha seemed to notice the trapdoor open and Eren assumed that meant he knew what had happened.

"Eren, did you go down there?" Grisha asked. Eren solemnly nodded, embarrassed that his parents had heard him, though he couldn't have expected them to have not. He vowed to himself to never let something like that scare him again—he was tougher than that. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have been so secretive about it. Next time I'll…"

But Eren had stopped listening. He wanted to know about the boy and his grandfather, and now seemed like the perfect time for asking. He didn't want to hear any sob stories about how they'll never let him out of their sight again, or how he wasn't allowed to go near it anymore. In fact, the whole experience seemed to throw fuel on the flames.

"Dad, if you want to stop being so secretive then tell me all you know about the boy who died here. I want to know," Eren asked, putting on the most determined face he could muster.

Grisha sighed. "On one condition: you won't go anywhere near that basement until I get it fixed up, okay?" Eren nodded crossed his fingers behind his back, making sure not to let Mikasa or his mom see either.

"Mikasa, do you want to hear this too?" he asked. Mikasa nodded slowly. If Eren was going to get involved with this, so was she. All four of them gathered on the front porch and sat around the small wooden table that had been left there as well by the previous owners. Mikasa looked a bit uncomfortable now having learned that they were living in a death house.

"The boy's name was Armin Arlert," his father began. "The man was his grandfather. Armin contracted a fatal disease about a year ago and died only weeks later. His grandfather reportedly committed suicide in the basement because he was so depressed without his grandson. I'm not exactly sure what happened to his parents, though.

"They said Armin was a bookworm and nobody really saw him with anyone except for his grandfather," he continued. Eren interrupted.

"Wait, how did you learn all this?" he questioned.

"When I came here a couple weeks back someone told me what happened at the house and asked if I still wanted to buy it or not. Of course I didn't believe the rumors that the grandfather… Never mind. They had records on it as well."

"Do you know what he looked like?" Eren suddenly spat out. He was becoming more and more intrigued about Armin; it sounded like they would have gotten along.

"Yes, well—"

"What was he like?"

"Eren," his mother stopped him. "It's okay to ask questions, but it's rude to interrupt." Eren muttered a barely audible 'sorry' and looked at his dad, still expecting answers.

"The man told me had longish blonde hair that stopped around the base of his face and bright blue eyes that, quote unquote, 'never stopped searching for knowledge.'"

"Did they have any pictures?"

"I'm not sure. Why are you so interested in this anyways? He's gone, Eren. It's not like you'll ever meet him. Are you planning to make him your imaginary friend?" Grisha teased.

Eren looked down at the table, embarrassed. He had just been curious is all. His mother shot a stern look his dad, who put his hands up in defense.

"Anyways, the two are buried somewhere over there—", he waved his hand in the opposite direction of the forest, much to Eren's relief— "and there's a rumor that the boy's ghost leaves flowers on his grandfather's grave every Saturday."

"Why every Saturday?" Mikasa voiced.

"That was the day he died," Grisha answered. Mikasa replied with a slight nod and gazed towards the direction that he had pointed in. It was a Friday. If the rumors were true, Armin (Eren decided that if he were going to pay his proper respects to the boy and take his room he should at least use his formal name) would be stopping by the next day.

"I don't believe that," Carla sighed. "It's probably someone who does it secretly to spark the rumors."

"Could be, but maybe not," Grisha smiled.

* * *

"Eren, are you really going?" Mikasa asked as she watched Eren put on his favorite red jacket.

"Sure am."

"I'll go too, then." Eren normally would have objected at this, but thought it might not be a bad idea to bring his sister along just in case something happened. Maybe it was a thief that picked people's pockets when they went out to see if the rumor was true; or maybe Armin's ghost was hostile.

"We're going on a walk!" Eren called to his parents when he stepped out the door. He received a nod from his mother and left, Mikasa lagging a couple steps behind him.

"Eren, why are we running?" she questioned as she caught up to him.

"Because I don't want to miss anything!" he replied, smiling. He was surprisingly almost completely over what had happened the day before, though he would admit that he didn't intend on going back in there until there were at least some lights. Eren quickened his pace so that Mikasa would actually have to struggle to keep up. Running had been one of the only things he was better at than her.

Eventually, he started running at a full sprint, leaving his sister trailing behind.

"Eren, wait!" she called out as she tried to run faster, but as soon as he disappeared behind a hill, he knew she had lost him. "Eren!" the faint call came again.

Eren ignored her calls and continued running, loving the feel of the wind on his skin, blowing through his hair. It was invigorating. He couldn't tell that he was tired or that he was nearly out of breath; he just kept running until he finally collapsed on the ground from the exhaustion and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He fell down on the cool grass as the breeze brushed his hair against his face. He ran his fingers through the chocolate brown locks to keep it out of his eyes. Turning his head, Eren realized he hadn't even known where he was until he saw it.

Two graves stood side by side, looking weathered even though they only stood there for a year. Eren's heart began to thump faster at the sight of what he was looking for. But there was no one there. _Yet_, his mind told him. _If I just sit here and wait, something's bound to happen. _

He didn't know how long he lied there, but the warm rays of sunshine and cool wind began to take its tolls on him as he began to drift off from lack of sleep when it happened.

Something moved out of the corner of his eye, he was certain of it. Eren sat straight up immediately, a sense of alarm replacing the peaceful stillness he had felt before. Nothing; just his imagination playing tricks on him. Tired of lying down, the boy figured that he may as well just go up and see the grave. His pounding heart nearly jumped into his throat as he approached it, unsure of what would happen if he did.

Right as he was about to reach it, he bumped into someone.

"Oh, sorry—" Eren was staring into a pair of translucent blue eyes that were wide with fear. His image was blurred and subtle. Eren rubbed his eyes to make sure he was actually there, but before he could do anything else, the boy ran off.

"Wait! Are you the one that leaves flowers?" he called after the running boy. Eren took off and sprinted after the boy, but he proved to be an even faster runner than Eren. He soon lost him. "Ah…" he huffed, struggling to catch his breath. It was then that Eren realized that there had been nobody there but him the entire time, and that the boy had blond hair.


	2. The Frail boy

Ghost of the Past Chapter 2

_Nothing really to say here. Enjoy the chapter._

"You're late, you two," Carla scolded Eren and Mikasa as they walked through the front door. Eren had bumped into Mikasa on his rapid sprint back to the house and literally dragged her back, afraid that the boy might be lurking somewhere near them. Had that really been the ghost?

_It had to be,_ he told himself. The boy had appeared out of nowhere, and Eren was sure it was the one everyone talked about. He decided he should tell his parents about it and find out whether or not they believed them. Odds were: they wouldn't.

Carla ushered them into their seats at the dining table for lunch before closing the door and serving everyone. Grisha cast them a stern glance, probably noticing the sweat dripping down both of their faces as well as their disheveled hair.

"Have a little too much fun?" he asked them, eyeing Eren especially. Eren was still breathing heavily as Carla set his meal down carefully in front of him, revealing a ham and cheese sandwich with a glass of water; the usual.

Mikasa stayed quiet as she was also served and began to eat her lunch, obviously waiting for Eren to explain what had happened.

Between breaths, Eren managed to say, "I saw him."

"Saw who, dear?" Carla asked as she sat down next to Grisha.

"The ghost! He was right there in front of the grave!" The room fell silent. Mikasa put down her sandwich and stared intently at Eren, giving him her signature 'I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about-but-I'm-going-to-find-out' look.

Carla sighed. "I know that you may think that that old rumor is exciting, Eren, but I promise you there was no one there but Mikasa. It was probably just your imagination."

"It's true, I promise! He was right beside me by the two graves! He had big blue eyes, blonde hair, and—"

"That's enough talk about this 'ghost', Eren," Grisha interrupted. "He's not real. I know that you're just trying to cope with moving somewhere new again, but making up stories like this about seeing ghosts isn't okay. I want you to stop this nonsense right now," he commanded harshly.

Eren looked down at his food dejectedly, suddenly losing the appetite he had just gained. He muttered an "excuse me" and went upstairs into his room. He shouldn't have even bothered; it was obvious how that would have gone. The boy didn't even notice his sister until she knocked on the door a second after he had entered.

"What do you want, Mikasa?" he asked, letting himself fall onto the bed.

"Is it true? What you said about the ghost?" Mikasa replied, taking his question as an invitation in. Eren sat up just as fast as he had lied down.

"Are you calling me out on this too?"

"No, I'm just asking if it's true or not. I wasn't there so I wouldn't know."

Eren thought about what to say for a moment that would sound convincing enough for someone like Mikasa to believe. She couldn't be swayed easily; she would probably need hardcore proof that Eren had actually seen Armin. Or maybe she could just accept it this time around.

"Yeah, it's true," he said after some time.

"Then tell me what happened."

Eren explained how he met the figure right beside the graves after thinking he saw something out of the corner of his eye. After describing the mysterious person with as much detail as he could muster—which wasn't a lot since Eren couldn't get a proper look at him considering his image was very vague—Mikasa finally nodded slowly.

"So you believe me?" He asked, feeling a bit more hopeful.

"I guess you could say that," she responded, moving towards the books he had piled on his desk earlier. "Are you planning to read all of these?"

Eren nodded, joining her by them. "Yeah, they belong to Armin."

"Don't you mean 'belonged'?"

"Not anymore."

* * *

A week had passed since the incident by the grave, and Eren hadn't seen any more of whom he had been led to believe was Armin. _Maybe it was just my imagination, _he found himself thinking. He tried harder to convince himself that Armin was real, but found his hope dwindling. The more rational part of him always decided to remind him that he had only really been half-awake at the time and that he had been so desperate to see Armin that he just thought he had seen him.

But there wasn't any time for that this morning; he was starting school.

"Eren, Mikasa, are you ready?" Carla called from downstairs. Eren heard Mikasa's footsteps thumping down the stairs as she went down to meet their mom. He pulled on his normal boots and jumped down from his bed, nearly forgetting to grab his jacket from his desk chair before leaving his room.

"Eren!" Carla called again.

"Coming!"

Their house was about a mile and a half away from the school. Carla decided to walk with them to school the first day; then they were on their own.

After a good thirty minute walk, Carla waved goodbye to them as they stepped up to the school. It was bigger than most of the schools they had been in, except for the big city ones where there were many classes for the same age group. Here, they had been told, only had one class for each age group. Eren and Mikasa were both put in the eleven and twelve year old class with Ms. Hanji, whom was rumored to be a nutcase about science and learning.

As the pair walked into the class, Eren could already tell that certain groups had been established even if it was only a month into the school year.

In the front were the good girls; the ones who were quiet and rarely spoke or got in trouble. Annoying, as Eren would call them. In the middle were three rather scary looking kids that glared right at Eren and Mikasa as they walked in, along with some kids that were horsing around. And in the back, as always, were the kids that thought they were too cool for school.

Eren could tell immediately that he would not fit in with any of these crowds and that he should be rather thankful Mikasa was here with him. They took their seats in the back right corner of the room, getting mocking glances from the cool kid bunch a couple seats away from them that were oddly empty.

"Class, let's welcome our two newest students, Eren and Mikasa!" Ms. Hanji announced enthusiastically, gesturing for the two to stand up.

Eren grunted and complied, followed by slowly by Mikasa. He could tell that one of the boys in the middle of the popular group was eyeing her. He cast him a daring glance and looked forward again.

"Why don't you two come up and introduce yourselves?" Ms. Hanji said.

They walked up into the front of the class rather awkwardly; Eren bumping into one of the scary kid's desks as he walked past, earning him a glare from the short blonde girl who occupied it. After what seemed like forever, they finally made it to the front of the classroom where the teacher laid a hand on each of their shoulders, making Mikasa squirm uncomfortably. Eren knew she hated being touched by people she didn't know.

"Go ahead, state your names and two interesting things about each of you," she said.

Mikasa took the initiative and went first. "My name is Mikasa Ackerman. My favorite color is red and I love my family very much." Eren didn't miss the smirk that crept onto the boy whose stare followed his sister everywhere now. He had shaggy light brown hair and an irritating smirk.

"My name is Eren Jaeger. I'm a good runner and I—" Eren was cut off mid-sentence as something came into focus in his vision. At first, it was very blurry, but as he focused on it more, he could make out the outline of something. Or someone. "And I like to read," he finished quickly, walking at an abnormal speed back to his desk. Mikasa followed him at the same pace.

But before he could reach his desk, he stopped dead in his tracks. There was something sitting in the desk beside his, and it was becoming clearer what it was.

"Eren, what's wrong?" Mikasa questioned. She gave him a nudge. "Eren?"

The brunet realized he was making a scene and moved abruptly to his desk. Now the image was almost completely clear as if it were really there; a rather small, frail-looking boy reading a book right beside him. He hadn't been there before, Eren was sure of it. They had made sure they hadn't sat next to anybody. Mikasa eyed him strangely as he stared at the desk.

And then the boy looked up at him and Eren knew. Oh man, he knew. The same blond hair. The same translucent blue eyes. His eyes went wide as he realized who he was having a staring competition with.

"You're…" Eren stuttered.

"You can see me?" Armin whispered. Eren nodded, positive that it was Armin, mouth gaping.

"Eren, what are you doing?" Mikasa snapped beside him. Eren was indeed attracting attention. Some of the group closest to them snickered.

"Eren, is there something wrong?" Ms. Hanji said, noticing his strange behavior.

"He probably just pooped his pants and needs his sister to change them!" the light brown haired boy taunted.

Eren stood up immediately. "Shut your stupid horse-face!" He didn't know where the insult had come from, but it sounded pretty good. Maybe he would start calling him that from now on.

"Boys," their teacher warned. "Eren, sit back down. Jean, I don't want to hear another word from you." At that, Jean—the horse-face—rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. The guy made Eren want to kill a man.

"Yes ma'am," he muttered quietly as he turned his head back to the front, trying his hardest to keep looking at the boy in his peripheral vision, but he didn't have to. Armin simply got up and sat in the desk ahead of Eren's and turned around.

"That was something," Armin said. "Can you hear me?" Eren nodded, not wanting to say anything to prevent getting called out again. The boy in front of him looked just as confused as Eren felt, if not more so. The brunet decided he needed to find out all about him.

Before he knew what he was doing, his hand shot up and he asked to use the restroom. Ms. Hanji nodded and instructed him where it was. As he walked out the door of the classroom he didn't miss the quiet laughter in the back of the room, infuriating him further. He turned down a different hallway and faced the ghost.

"Are you sure you see me?" Armin asked again.

"Yes, I'm sure! How else could I be talking to you if I couldn't?" Eren snapped back, being as loud as he dared. He realized he shouldn't have snapped; he was just annoyed from earlier.

Armin winced and took a step back, obviously hurt. "I'm sorry, it's just… I mean, I don't know. Do you know what I am?"

Eren hesitated before answering. "Are you a ghost?"

"I guess you could call me that; I don't really know what else I could be. My name is Armin Arlert. Your family moved into my house recently," he answered. Well that sealed the deal, Armin was the real thing. He didn't look very threatening for a dead person, though. Eren could tell he was very shy and would have been a target for bullies; somebody like him.

"Were you the one I saw at the grave on Saturday?" Eren asked, stepping a foot closer.

Armin nodded. "Yeah, I was afraid that you could see me because you were an exorcist or something and were here to send me down below," he said, pointing down at the floor.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Never mind," Armin said, looking away.

Eren didn't really know what to say; after all, he was talking to a dead boy. Did this mean he could see dead people? Was this some unfound power he never knew he had like the ones he pretended he had when he was a young child? Eren remembered how he used to love to pretend he could fly. In fact, he had loved doing that so much, he one time convinced himself he could and jumped out a tree, only to break his ankle from landing on it wrong.

Eren stretched a hand out carefully to the boy before him. His image was now clearer than it was before; it was like he was almost there. But no, he was still just a bit translucent and Eren could see the wooden floors of the hallway through him. His form seemed to constantly shimmer, threatening to take him away from the brunet's vision.

Armin extended his hand cautiously as well and grasped Eren's with full force.

"Ouch! Why are you gripping so hard?" Eren asked, pulling his hand back.

"Sorry, I wasn't sure if you would be able to feel anything," Armin replied, now nervously smiling. He scratched the back of his head.

"It's okay," Eren said to make him feel better. Silence. What was there to talk about? How long have you been dead? Aren't you supposed to be in heaven like the preachers say you should be? Did you do something bad? Luckily, Armin began to talk first.

"So I guess you're wondering if I'm a ghost why I'm in school and everything," he started. Eren figured this was a start. Nodding, he urged him to talk. Armin ran a hand through his ghostly hair. "I really like learning, as you can probably tell from the books in my room. I don't really have much to do now-a-days, it gets pretty lonely when no one can see or hear you, so every day that there's school I'll go in and sit down in my normal desk in the morning. They don't pray for me anymore, they stopped a pretty long time ago. I used to like to listen to those prayers and see what they would say about me, but it wasn't usually much. Just that they hoped I made it to the other side safely and all that. I had false hope that it would release me, but it never did."

"You mean you've been stuck here all this time, even though you're dead?" Eren asked. "I thought you were supposed to go to heaven when you died, not stay here…"

"Well, I thought so too. I don't really know what to think anymore; maybe every other person who's died is stuck here too because there really is no heaven or hell and I just can't see them."

The two boys stared at each other, trying to take in what had been said. _So when I die, I'll end up like him? Going through my daily life as a ghost when no one else can see or hear me?_

"I know you probably have a lot of questions to ask me, but we should probably get back to class. I wouldn't want to miss anything," Armin noted. "After all, it is your first day, too, right?"

Eren smiled slightly and agreed to go back only if he could write Armin notes and he would respond to them. Armin gladly agreed and led the way back to class. Meanwhile, Eren was thinking of everything he wanted to ask Armin.

"Eren, are you feeling okay?" Mikasa asked the brunet boy as he sat back down in his seat clumsily. She eyed the notebook he now clutched in his hands. They both sat still for a moment until Mrs. Hanji turned around, then his sister struck with full force.

"Hey, cut it out!" Eren whispered harshly as Mikasa tickled him. He heard a chuckle from behind him. The teacher was too busy writing things on the chalkboard up front to notice anything, but that didn't mean a couple of the kids around him didn't notice. The girl ended up being able to pry the notebook from Eren's iron grip and quickly sat on it. "Give it back!" he pouted.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"There's nothing wrong, can I have my notebook back now? We're starting class."

Mikasa sighed and seemed to think it over before she handed it back to him, muttering something about boys and how they were impossible to understand. Eren caught a glimpse of Armin smiling out of the corner of his eye.

"I wish I had a sister," he said. "I was an only child and my parents died when I was a little kid, so I was pretty much alone except for my grandfather."

_Didn't you have any friends?_ Eren wrote on the first blank page of his notebook that he received from Mikasa. He instantly felt bad about the way he had worded it, but it was too late to erase it. He turned to see Armin shaking his head.

"No, just me. I wasn't exactly very popular, if you will. I was always the kid in the back of the classroom taking notes or reading," he sighed. Then, as if to take his mind off of his old life, Armin proceeded to begin naming people in the classroom.

"You see those three over there?" he said, looking over in the direction of the three kids Eren had bumped into earlier. "That's Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. Those three like to keep to themselves. I was kind of friends with Annie last year, but not really. If you count a couple conversations as a friendship. Okay, strike that, we weren't friends."

Eren chuckled softly and tried to cover it up with a cough. Armin continued to name more people in the classroom; Sasha, Connie, Christa, Mina, Hannah, Franz, and more people Eren couldn't remember.

"And then there's Jean," Armin said with obvious distaste. "He's a real annoyance as you saw earlier. I wouldn't get involved with him. His best friend is Marco Bodt, who's actually a pretty nice guy. He would always apologize to me every time after Jean and the others were done picking on me. The girl is Ymir. Just another typical playground bully, though I'm pretty sure she has a soft side for Christa. The others are just the rest of his gang."

Eren didn't have a hard time imagining those guys bashing on a kid like Armin. The thought made him visibly angry. Armin noticed and made an effort to calm the young boy down. "It's okay, it's been a year now. It's not like they can really hurt me anymore."

But something about the way Armin said it made Eren even angrier. Gripping his pencil, he jotted down his next question in an effort to sooth his animosity. _Where do you go after school? _

Armin pondered for a moment. "It depends. Sometimes I go to the library, sometimes the woods, sometimes I go walking. There's one place I avoid at all costs, though—the new dessert shop. I can't stand walking by it and seeing all the stuff in the window. It's all too good."

_Do you get hungry?_

The blond shook his head. "Sometimes I get this hollow feeling where my stomach should be, but I wouldn't necessarily call it hunger. Even if it was, I wouldn't be able to eat anything anyways."

Eren went on to ask more questions, each more intriguing than the last. Armin never ate, never drank, never ate, and never got cold or hot despite his somewhat chilly aura he somehow emitted. As cruel as it sounded and as much as the boy fought the thought, he knew Armin had no place in the world anymore. It had moved on and left him stranded, taking away all of his humanly needs and leaving him alone.

The day went faster than Eren had ever expected. Soon enough, he was walking home with Mikasa and Armin, all of their hair being rustled by the wind. The wind somehow managed to sweep through Armin's thick, golden locks that touched his shoulders. He was reading while walking, brushing his bangs out of his eyes every now and then.

Eren found it amazing just to watch the ghost boy, wondered how he worked. He seemed human enough—the only thing that set him apart from the looks of someone alive was the fact that he was still partly see-through, even though he was becoming clearer and clearer to Eren with every passing hour.

"Eren," Mikasa said, "you've been acting strange today. Did you get enough rest?"

Eren turned away from Armin. "You're like Mom, Mikasa. Can't you just stop nagging me for one minute?"

A silence fell between them. The brunet heard Armin sigh from behind him, then felt a slightly cold, misty hand on his shoulder. "You know, Eren, you should be thankful you even had a mom to nag you. I can't tell you what I would have given for one moment of your life," he whispered.

With that, the ghost boy disappeared. Eren didn't even have to turn around to know he was gone. His presence had entirely vanished, leaving him with thoughts about what it would be like if his mom was taken before his very eyes.


	3. Submerged

Ghost of the Past Chapter 3

Eren sat in his—Armin's—bed, tossing and turning in an effort to get some sleep, but to no avail. Armin hadn't made an appearance after the walk home, leaving the boy with an empty feeling he had a hard time explaining. He found it strange that he was already accustomed to talking to a ghost despite having only known him for a day. Suddenly, sleeping in the dead boy's old bed seemed wrong.

Eren eventually gave up, hoping that moving somewhere else for the night would allow him to rest. Knowing that no other beds were available within the house, except for Mikasa's which he would only climb into as a last resort—they hadn't shared a bed since they were little—, Eren made his way quietly out of the house and slipped into the crisp autumn night.

The cold in the air was obvious and shook the boy to the bone, making him regret his decision to bring only one blanket. Too stubborn to get another one and now determined to spend the night outside, he wandered towards the pond next to the woods, surveying the surroundings. The icy wind nipped at his skin, but the boy ignored it, taking in the beauty of the scenery around him. The night seemed make everything faintly glow, as if hazy from a dream. The stars shone brightly in the sky, much different from the last place his family had lived. The city air had always cast a shadow on the stars, making them dimmer and fewer in numbers.

Out here, though, every star in the galaxy was visible. Swirls of dark purple seemed to be mixed in with the soft blackness of the night. Streaks of moonlight from the moon shined down in a couple places on the pond and beyond. _The world is so beautiful. _Eren thought. He quickly made his way to a bit of land sloped downwards; the wind had picked up, making him shiver even more. The grass was cool to the touch and prickled his skin, but the boy didn't mind. Just as he was about to cover himself with the blanket, a new gust of wind blasted him from nowhere.

"Shoot!" Eren said as the blanket was ripped from his hands and carried towards the pond. Making a split second decision to go after it, Eren leaped from the ground to try to catch it in midair, but he stumbled at the last second, sending him rolling down the gentle slope and towards the pond.

He didn't realize what had happened until he heard the _splash _and was encased by a coldness never known to him before. Breath taken from his chest, he instantly felt numb, all of his limbs stiffening to the point where it seemed nearly impossible to move them. It shouldn't have been that deep there, unless there was a drop-off. Realization hit Eren as he futilely tried to find something to swim up; he was going to drown.

He instantly regretted never learning how to swim.

_No… _he thought. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to end up like Armin; alone, nowhere to go and no one who cared. He didn't want to watch his parents and sister grieve for him, didn't want a grave right next to the pond.

All of these thoughts swam around in his head as he flailed around underwater, unable to reach the air he needed so desperately. He felt all of the fight he had left within him drain, like someone had turned on a faucet within him and taken his will to live away. All Eren could think about now was the numbness that pulsed through his body and the fact that he wouldn't live to see the stars again.

And then it happened. Just as Eren was about to give in to the darkness, a cold hand—though he couldn't tell whose—grabbed his still extended arm and pulled with all its might. Another one joined it, grasping onto his slippery appendage and yanking over and over again. Eren couldn't do anything but hope that whoever was helping him could get him out as he faded into blackness and let unconsciousness take him.

* * *

"…Eren, Eren!"

Eren gasped and breathed in the biggest breath he had ever taken in his life. He sat up, panting and swinging his arms around as if to try to bring all of the oxygen around into him. A pale face came into his line of vision and put both hands on his shoulders.

"Take deep breaths," the figure said. Once he calmed down, Eren identified the figure as Armin the ghost boy. A look of pure relief washed over his new friend's face, replacing the fear that had been there a moment before. "Are you okay?"

Eren noticed his teeth chattering and his body shuddering so much it felt like his insides were being rattled. The only thing he could manage to do was shake his head slightly, the numbness preventing him from doing much else.

"We have to get you inside," Armin muttered. "Can you stand?"

Eren shook his head again and fell back to lie on the grass, curling into a ball to preserve what little body heat he had left.

"This is bad; you'll go into hypothermia or catch pneumonia at this rate… Okay, I'm going to wake your parents up." Armin ran swiftly towards the house, not sparing the shivering boy another glance. Eren didn't protest at all, hoping that the ghost would somehow find a way to wake everyone up. He heard the door being thrown open and slammed repeatedly. Open, close. Open, close. If that didn't wake someone up, Eren wasn't sure what would.

But Armin didn't wait to start causing more ruckuses. Eren could faintly hear him banging pots together and pounding on the walls. He cocked his head towards the noises and saw lights emitting from the house now, giving him a sliver of hope.

Armin came rushing out of the cottage, sprinting at full speed towards him. All Eren could do was shiver and hope that his parents would come out soon at noticing he was missing from his bed. Once the ghost boy reached him, the brunet was almost too exhausted to stay awake; but something told him he had to.

"Just hold on, Eren," Armin said determinedly. "They should be coming out here soon."

A minute, one of the longest Eren had ever experienced, later Carla and Grisha bounded out of the front door, followed by a frantic Mikasa. "Eren, Eren!" all three of them began to call simultaneously. Armin began to stomp his feet and jump up and down, pointing to the freezing boy while doing so as if they could see him.

Mikasa was the first to locate the source of the sounds and rushed over, gasping when she saw her brother. "Mom! Dad!" she cried, her voice hoarse. "Help!"

The two adults were over in the blink of an eye. Grisha hoisted Eren into his arms and ran towards the house as fast as he possibly could. Carla and Mikasa followed suit. Eren had just enough strength to look back—his friend had already vanished.

* * *

Eren awoke from a deep, dreamless slumber in the late hours of the morning. The sun shone through his window. Ironically, he had been tucked back into the same bed he had avoided the night before. He laid in a heap of blankets—Mikasa had probably insisted every spare blanket or quilt they owned be spent on him for the night. Heck, she had probably given him all of her own as well.

Eren sat up, glad to have movement in his limbs again, and pushed the extra heat off and onto the floor.

"Hey!" a shout of protest from below said. Surprised, the boy nearly tumbled off the bed and onto his visitor. A transparent arm flung the blankets back onto the bed. Armin's head popped up. "Put those back on, you'll need the warmth to recover."

"Recover?" Almost as if on cue, Eren began a violent coughing fit, the ugly hacks hurting his body from the inside out.

"From that." Armin hopped onto the bed and began to layer Eren in the blankets again. The brunet had to resist the urge to throw them off again; he was as hot as a furnace. The coughs subsided and he slipped back under the covers, resting his head on the cushiony pillow so he could still look at the other. "Let's hope you don't have pneumonia…" Armin muttered under his breath. He answered with another cough.

The ghost boy sighed and brushed a strand of blonde hair behind his ear. Then, leaning over the side of the bed, he grabbed a book Eren figured he had been reading the whole time. It was a thick, leather-bound book with a slightly torn cover. The words _My Life _were written on it neatly, but there was no signature of an author that he could see.

Armin elaborated without a moment's hesitation. "It's my grandfather's autobiography. I read it sometimes when I get lonely…" Eren looked into the ghost boy's eyes. There was no way he was dead; no way he could show so much emotion. He seemed more alive than _himself, _which actually scared the boy.

The person in front of him had had his life taken from him with no notice at all. His last few weeks were spent in misery as he succumbed to the illness that finally killed him, freeing him of the pain but also of life. _He deserved so much more than that, _Eren thought. _So much more. _What if that had been him right now? He could have died if not for Armin.

An overwhelming sense of gratitude overcame Eren. Without warning, he sat straight up and grabbed Armin by the shoulders, causing the ghost to jump and flinch. After a few seconds, he thought of what to say and knew what he had to do. "Thank you, Armin, for saving my life."

Armin smiled. "It was what I had to—"

"And I swear I'll get them for you, Armin. I swear I'll make them all pay!"

His smile faltered. "Eren, what are you—"

"Every last one of them. I won't even let one—"

"Eren." The warm smile was completely gone, replaced by a grimace that didn't suit the boy's delicate features. "Don't. What's done is done. What's happened has happened. It's in the past now. There's nothing you can do to change that."

Eren felt the seething rage that had begun boiling within him sizzle and evaporate. He thought Armin would have jumped at the idea; revenge on those who had hurt him. He felt like a kicked puppy, but he knew it was his fault. He had let his anger control him again. He just needed to calm down.

"Yeah, sorry…" Eren mumbled. A part of him still grasped the idea that one day he would take revenge for Armin, but he squashed it for now, kicking it back into the cage it belonged in and hiding the key for another time.

An awkward silence enveloped the two until Eren removed his hands from Armin's shoulders. Armin visibly relaxed. The brunet felt foolish for not noticing his friend's discomfort. Coughing and then sniffling, Eren sank back into the covers and pulled them over his head, face flushing in embarrassment. Sometimes he really hated his overactive emotions.

Armin sighed again. "I'm sorry, Eren. I appreciate it, I really do. It's hard to understand." The boy nodded, not sure if the other could see it or not. Armin looked like he wanted to say more, but the door was suddenly slammed open. Peeping out from the covers, Eren saw what looked like death on two feet; Mikasa with no sleep. Wide eyes, wild hair, wrinkled and messy clothes, and bags under her eyes all indicated she had stayed up all night, probably waiting for him to wake up at any given time.

"Eren, are you okay?" Mikasa sputtered. "I heard you talking to yourself in here. Are you hallucinating? Should I get Mom or Dad?" She hurriedly crossed the room and sat on the bed right on top of Armin, who made a noise and squirmed. "Did you feel that?" she asked as the unnoticed ghost hastily moved out of the way and stood.

Eren shook his head and found it interesting she passed right through Armin instead of actually sitting on him. The brunet found himself wondering if the ghost was only tangible to the likes of him. Deciding it was too confusing to think about, he discreetly moved over and patted a spot next to him for Armin to move to.

Said boy settled himself in next to Eren and reopened his grandfather's book again. Before long, a small smile crept onto Armin's face again. Mikasa looked briefly confused for a moment before she turned her full attention back to him. "I would have come in sooner, but they wouldn't let me. They said you needed your rest just in case you came down with something. Do you feel alright?"

"Mikasa, I feel fine," Eren replied, doing his best to choke another cough down. Armin eyed him suspiciously, making the brunet nervous.

"You look flustered."

"Probably because of all these blankets."

"Dad said you needed to keep them on though." Eren could see Armin nodding in his peripheral vision. Rolling his eyes, he agreed to keep them on. A disturbing thought entered his head; what if Armin's grandfather had done the same thing to him? What if Armin had gotten worse because he didn't keep warm enough? It was a silly idea, but it was enough to make Eren clutch the blankets like a lifeline.

Then a new thought occurred to him. "Mikasa, why aren't you in school?"

"I have a cold." As if to prove her point, Mikasa coughed and then sniffed. Eren didn't believe it for one second and couldn't see how his parents—especially one that practiced medicine—did either. He had a sneaking suspicion that they had let her stay home to keep her from getting too stressed about him possibly being sick. Armin chuckled beside him.

"She's worried about you," the ghost boy commented, flipping the page of the book Eren oddly found himself wanting to read.

"Obviously," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" his sister replied, stony-faced.

"Nothing."

The three sat there for a few minutes in silence. The only disturbance was the occasional page flip from Armin's book—something that Mikasa couldn't even hear. After a while, the girl spoke again. "I'm going to tell Dad to come up and check on you now that you're awake." Before Eren could protest that he just wanted to be alone with his invisible friend she was out the door and thumping down the steps of the staircase.

Now he let out the rupturing cough that tickled his throat to the point of madness. Doubling over in the bed, he hacked until it was gone and he could control himself again. Armin rubbed circles on his back, trying to soothe him. "I could get you a glass of water if you'd like," Eren registered his friend saying. He shook his head.

His father walked into the room then, trailed by Mikasa. He had a worried look plastered on his face; Eren was sure he had just heard his coughing fit. The black haired girl's face was blank.

"My, oh my, Eren. Are you alright?" Grisha asked, coming over and laying a hand on his son's forehead. Nodding slowly, he said, "That's a fever, alright. Mikasa, will you bring him some water?" Complying, Mikasa speedily walked out of the room.

Grisha turned back to Eren and sighed. "You shouldn't go to school for a couple days. Moving on from the fact that you're sick, though, why were you outside last night?"

Eren gulped. He had been expecting his parents—or Mikasa—to question him, but not this early. "I…" he stammered, trying to put together words that didn't make him seem too childish. "I couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to wake anybody up, so I thought moving outside would help." The brunet saw Armin give him a puzzled look out of the corner of his eyes.

"Outside in the cold?"

"I don't know. I just thought it would be better than having to stay up all night."

"Well, you were wrong," Grisha concluded. "Now you're sick with a bad cold, maybe even pneumonia. I sure hope it's not that."

Eren's face fell as he heard Armin's breath hitch at the word 'pneumonia', but he continued his reading. If he had it, he would be okay, right? After all, his father was a doctor. He could treat him if it got too bad. He tried to supply himself with these optimistic thoughts, but it just didn't work when a dead person who had succumbed to pneumonia himself was right beside him. The fact that it could actually happen to him—him, a kid—scared him out of his mind.

"I'm going to get you a wash cloth and make you some tea. Stay put, alright?" Grisha said softly. The brunet nodded, not intending to get up any time soon. Once his father was gone, his friend put a hand on his shoulder.

"Eren, I'm sure it will be alright," Armin encouraged. "What happened to me _will not _happen to you, I'll guarantee it myself. I'll go to heaven and back if that's what it takes."

Eren chuckled. "Wouldn't your problem be solved if you _could _go to heaven?"

Armin smiled a small smile. "One will never know."

* * *

_So we're finally getting somewhere. I think I have the main plot figured out now, so I expect it'll start going smoothly. Major event coming up in chapter 4!_


	4. Baker's Advice

Ghost of the Past: Chapter 4

Eren was sick for days. The coughs ruptured his throat, leaving it dry and scratchy to the point where it hurt to even eat soft oatmeal. His fever lingered with him most of the time, sapping his energy and keeping him bedridden. His parents would check on him from time to time, asking if he needed anything or some company while Mikasa was at school. He would always decline.

He didn't need any company; he had Armin. The ghost flat out refused to leave his side, fastening himself to the brunet at all times. It was strange how much Eren found himself getting attached to the blond, an unknown entity pulling them closer together and forging their odd, unusual friendship.

Much to Armin's relief, Eren soon began to get well. His fever broke and his sore throat subsided, leaving him feeling better than ever. His energy came back and he was done sitting in bed all day.

"Dad, can I go outside?" he asked as he pounded down the stairs, Armin trailing after him.

"I don't know," Grisha replied hesitantly. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, and I'm tired of sitting in my room all day. Please?" he pleaded.

Grisha looked to Carla, who nodded. "Alright—but before you do, go back upstairs and put on extra clothes."

"Okay!" The excited boy bounded up the steps, ran into his room and began to search his drawers for something warms.

"You sure are excited," Armin chuckled as he rummaged through his drawer of winter wear. Almost in a whisper, he added, "I wish I could feel the cold."

Eren stopped, his arm in midair holding one of his old sweaters. He turned to face the other, face dead serious. "You will, Armin. I swear I'll help you. In fact, we'll start today!" Overcome by new emotions, the boy speedily wrapped himself in the worn cloth and tugged on some warmer shoes.

"Eren," Armin sighed, "I appreciate the effort, but—"

"Please."

The two met eyes, Armin's pale, lifeless blue orbs staring into Eren's fiery green ones. "Alright," he said finally. "What do you have in mind?"

"The library," the brunet smirked. "We'll start there."

* * *

"I'm telling you, Eren, it's a waste of time," Armin huffed. "I've read every book in there on ghosts, spirits, demons, exorcists, you name it. If _I _couldn't find anything, I doubt you will either."

"Are you calling me dumb?" Eren questioned.

"No, just lacking in philosophy is all."

"We're going and you can't stop me."

"Well, that may be true," Armin reasoned, "but I can sit here and complain all day."

The brunet smiled. He would take the ghost boy's complaints over being alone any day. As they entered the small library building, Eren automatically began searching for the paranormal area, browsing various bookshelves before he felt a chilly hand on his shoulder.

"It's over here," Armin said, leading him to the correct section.

The two stood side by side as they scanned the bookshelves for anything that pertained to the topic, pulling out dusty books every now and then and tossing them into a pile on the floor. Eren briefly wondered if anyone else saw random books floating in the air before dropping, landing with a loud _bang. _Finally, after they had created a stack of at least fifteen different books, they duo plopped down on the floor.

"Okay, let's get started."

The rustling of pages and the occasional stir of one of the two boys switching positions on the carpeted flooring was the only sound to be heard. Eren concentrated with all of his might, words swimming around the pages by the time he even took a break. His eyes were heavy and his head felt fuzzy.

"Had enough yet?" Armin questioned, flipping the page on a book about haunting.

Groaning, Eren stretched, wincing at the stiffness in his legs. "There has to be something. There has to be…"

"I'm telling you," the blond replied, "there's nothing. There's nothing that will ever be able to save me. I'll be stuck here the rest of my… death, I suppose. I accepted that fact long ago."

The brunet lowered his voice to a low whisper, frustration seeping into the words. "Then why are we even bothering if you've given up hope?"

The other blinked, unsure of how to respond. "I… I don't know, really."

"Then find a reason to."

"A reason to what?"

"To fight, of course," Eren replied. "To win. To beat whatever force has it out for you. If you don't fight, you can't win. It's as simple as that."

Armin ran a hand through his messy hair. "I wish I could truly believe that there was a way, Eren, but I'm just not sure there is."

"We'll find a way, I promise! I swear on my life we will!" he grinned. "No matter how long it—hey, why are you crying?"

Armin, who was indeed wiping away a stray tear from his face, gave a small smile back. "Because I've never had someone who cared so much as you," he murmured. "Thank you, really."

"It's what friends do, right?"

"Y-yeah," the ghost boy sniffed. "Right. We should probably get back before your parents get worried about you."

"Okay," Eren agreed, gathering a few books off the ground he hadn't gotten to. Armin picked up a few as well and the two headed to the library check out area. The librarian, a middle aged blonde woman, gave a strange glance to Eren's side, probably trying to make out Armin. She blinked her eyes a couple of times and checked the books out.

As the two walked out of the store, the brunet's eyes caught on a nearby store. "Armin, is that a bakery?" he asked, excitement in his eyes.

"Yeah, but—"

"Come on!"

"Wait, I'll drop my books!"

Eren pulled Armin along, getting odd looks from the few passers-by. As he burst into the store, he let the sweet, intoxicating aroma of freshly baked goods fill his system. "I haven't been to a bakery in forever!" he exclaimed to the blond. "It smells amazing in here."

"I wish I could smell it," Armin answered with a sad look.

Eren's mood was instantly dimmed. "I'm sorry," he frowned.

Armin just nodded. "It's okay."

"Hello there," the woman from the counter said. She looked rather young and had brunette hair pulled into a high ponytail, along with a matching pair of brown eyes. "Welcome to the Blouse Bakery, can I get you anything?"

"Oh, I'm just looking," Eren responded, setting his books on a nearby round table.

"Can I get you any samples?" she smiled. He decided he liked her.

"No ma'am, but thank you," he said.

"Okay, let me know if you want to try anything."

"Thank you."

The duo walked up to the counter, examining the many choices of delicacies. "Any favorites?" Eren whispered to Armin, who was looking at a piece of carrot cake.

"I don't know, they're all really good. I remember I used to love coming here. I think I liked one of the muffins the best. Wild blueberry; it was incredible. The blueberries are handpicked and the muffin batter is homemade."

Eren dug his hands into his pockets, trying to find any loose coins. He found that he barely had any; in fact, he couldn't even buy a piece of bread. He was just about to trudge out of the store when the clerk spoke again.

"See anything you like?" she asked in her nice voice.

"Yes, but I don't have enough money for it, though," he sighed. "Thank you for letting me look." He stood.

"Which is it, sweetie?"

"The blueberry muffin."

The woman reached under the counter and grabbed one of the blueberry muffins, picking the biggest and best looking one. "Here you go. A treat for the road." She smiled again.

"O-oh, thank you so much!" Eren exclaimed. Fishing into his pocket for the change he had pocketed after losing hope of buying anything, he placed it all on the counter. "I'm sorry, I know this isn't much but I don't want to take it for free."

"Thank you, dear. I hope you enjoy the muffin. By the way, do you happen to know a girl named Sasha?"

"Oh, yeah," Armin said. "This is Sasha's family bakery. I forgot." Seeing Eren's questioning look, he added, "Sasha Blouse. She's in your class. Always with Connie Springer."

The brunet remembered her at the mention of Connie. Long, brown hair always in a ponytail and brown puppy dog eyes, just like her mother who, he figured, was the woman behind the counter. "She's in my class," he responded, repeating what Armin had said.

"Are you the one that just moved here?"

He nodded. "Yes ma'am. My dad is a doctor and we move around a lot. I'm Eren Jaeger."

"You live in the Arlert's old house, correct?"

Gulping, he answered, "Yes."

"Be careful of ghosts," she grinned. "They say there's one that haunts the house. If you ever have any trouble with them, you should contact one of the Renz family members. They're firm believers in God and I think they'd be able to chase out any ghost that could still linger. They have a daughter named Christa, who's also in your class."

Eren saw Armin gulp. "Thanks for the information," he said quickly, scooping up the books he had set down and exiting the store before Mrs. Blouse could say anything else. "Are you okay?" he asked his friend, who looked a little shaken.

Armin managed a weak smile. "Yeah. It's just the thought of exorcism scares me. We don't know what could happen. I like to know all of the possibilities of something before doing it."

The brunet completely understood his friend's nervousness about the topic. He doubted _he _would want to be exorcised if he were in his position. Like Armin said, it was just too unpredictable—and that was if it could even work. Though hearing that the Renz family could be of use…

"Armin, we need to talk to Christa," Eren stated.

"Huh?" He looked confused. "Didn't we just agree that we shouldn't try exorcism?"

"I'm not saying we're going to try it; I'm saying we should ask them for information. Maybe they actually have something that can help."

"…But no exorcism, right?"

"Right," Eren nodded.

A sigh of relief escaped Armin's mouth. "Okay," he agreed. "But not today. We need to get back home."

Smiling, the two began the walk home. The muffin was gone in less than five minutes. As Eren talked and walked contentedly beside his best friend, he didn't even think about the fact Armin had said 'we'.

* * *

"Where have you been, Eren?" Mikasa questioned him the moment they stepped into the house.

"On a walk," Eren answered, brushing past her and going towards the staircase.

Mikasa followed. "Mom and Dad have been worried sick. They're out looking for you now," she sighed. "Where were you walking?"

"None of your business, Mikasa!"

The girl winced and retreated, murmuring something about going to find their parents. Eren's mouth formed a thin line. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh; sometimes it just came out that way.

"Apologize to her," Armin commanded, leaving no room for an argument.

"Mikasa." His sister turned at hearing her name. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you," Eren voiced.

"It's okay, Eren." She then returned to putting on her jacket and went out the door, shutting it softly behind her and leaving the two alone.

Silence hovered over them for a moment, the brunet still looking at the door. "Why do you always act as if there's a problem when she's around?" Armin asked.

Eren ran a hand through his windswept hair. "It's hard to explain. You'd know if you had a sibling."

"I don't think it's just that, Eren. What's the real reason?"

He hesitated before answering. "It's just… I don't know. She's always been better at me than everything and it seems like my parents sometimes favorite her over me—and she's not even their own child!"

"But she loves them like they were her own parents. And she loves you like you were her own brother, too," the blond reasoned.

"Yeah…" Eren admitted. "What do you want me to do?"

"Love her back. Be her friend."

"I do love her!" Eren argued.

"Do you love her because you're _supposed _to love her, or because you love _her_?"

The boy's mouth was open, staring at the figure in front of him. Had he really been able to analyze him that quickly? "You're right," Eren mumbled. "I'll… I'll do better."

Mikasa wasn't all that bad, really. In fact, she was caring, kind, and loving, as Armin had said, towards their family. He was just now realizing what a jerk he had been to the girl, and he vowed to be better.

"Good," Armin nodded, ending the conversation. "We should wait down here for them to return. In the meantime, we can help wash dishes."

The blond dragged Eren—who was actually just about to comply—into the kitchen, where they began scrubbing the grimy bowls and plates in the sink to perfection.

They got the job done quickly and efficiently, minus when Armin splashed Eren with the sink water but Eren couldn't get him back because the water went right through him.

"No fair," the brunet pouted, teasingly shoving his friend.

"It is to fair," Armin chuckled. "I'm dead and you're alive; I can at least splash you with water and get away with it."

"Cheap."

"It's true."

They had just finished when they heard the front door opening, signaling the arrival of the rest of Eren's family members. "Eren?" Carla called out.

"In here, Mom!"

His parents and Mikasa were in the kitchen in a split second. "We were looking everywhere for you!" Grisha exclaimed as Carla hugged her son. "You said you were just going on a walk!"

"I did!"

"Where?"

"In town."

Carla sighed. "Honey, we thought you meant in the area. You have to tell us before you wander into town! What were you thinking?"

"Sorry," he muttered. Armin gave him a small smile before exiting the room and, from what Eren could hear, going up the stairs.

"We're going to have to punish you. Your mother and I will think of your punishment," Grisha said, walking out of the room. Carla followed and he heard the two go into their bedroom and shut the door.

Mikasa spoke. "Eren, I—"

She was cut off by the boy pulling her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. He felt her nod after a moment's hesitation. He didn't know what else to say; he had always been bad with words. He let his actions speak for him which, sometimes, got him into trouble. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "Do you want to come up to my room with me?"

Mikasa pulled away and nodded, a small smile on her face. The two bounded up the stairs, Eren hoping Armin would be okay with him playing with Mikasa for a while. Surely he would be. After all, he had encouraged this.

Once they hit the top of the stairs, they ran to the boy's room, Eren flinging the door wide open, going in, and flopping on the bed next to its fellow occupant. Armin barely even looked up from his book, which he seemed deeply immersed in. Turning around, he saw Mikasa still standing at the entrance. A look of pure horror was on her face.

"What's wrong, Mikasa?" Eren questioned, brows furrowing.

Her only response was to point a shaking finger at Armin.

* * *

_Whew! I feel like my chapters are getting shorter every time. Don't worry, the next one will be longer for sure. Thanks for reading!_


	5. Deal with the Devil

"Eren, who is that?" Mikasa asked quietly, dismay lacing her words. "Who is _that_?!"

Eren stood immediately. "Wait, you—"

"You can see me?!" Armin interrupted. Tossing the book onto the bed, he jumped up and stood in front of Mikasa. "Can you feel this?" he asked, grabbing her hand with his own.

Mikasa pulled back immediately. "You're cold," she murmured.

"Yeah…" the ghost boy said timidly.

"Who is he?" the girl asked, looking at Eren, who was still standing still by the bed. "And what is he doing in our house? In your room?"

"Actually, it's his house—and this is his room," the brunet answered slowly, as if treading thin ice. "Mikasa, this is Armin."

"Armin, the…" she trailed off.

All three knew what she was going to say, but Eren finished it anyways. "The dead boy."

Said boy gulped and let his fringe cover his eyes, staring down at the floorboards and twiddling his thumbs. Mikasa took to inspecting him all over, not afraid to get too close and personal. "Uhh," Armin said, taking a step back when she put her face up to his.

"Sorry," Mikasa apologized, her neutral expression coming back into place.

"It's okay," the blond muttered. They all stood awkwardly for a moment, none knowing what to do until finally Eren spoke up.

"Let's do something, standing around is boring," he said. The other two watched as he walked to the bookshelf and dug through its contents, occasionally finding something of interest and setting it aside. "How about we do this?" he asked, holding up a puzzle box with a picture of a mountain and river on it.

Shrugging, Armin sat down next to Eren as he unboxed the puzzle. Mikasa sat down as well, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them. The unease was palpable. Eren didn't like how Mikasa was eyeing his friend wearily, as if he were going to make a move against them.

_She's probably scared, _he realized. He found it odd he hadn't felt very frightened the first time he saw Armin; just yearning to know more and see him again. Well, that wish had been granted. Maybe the two would come to like each other.

"Are you going to dump the pieces out?" Mikasa questioned, her voice muffled behind her red scarf that was pulled over her mouth.

"Oh," Eren said blankly, realizing he had only unboxed the puzzle. Tilting the box over and letting the pieces fall out, he gave a sideway glance to Armin, who looked cold and clammy—well, even more so than usual.

Just as they were about to start putting it together, Mikasa announced she had to use the bathroom. She left, leaving the two boys alone squirmy boys alone.

"Are you okay with this, Armin?" Eren asked, breaking the silence that had engulfed them.

Armin shot him a puzzling look. "Okay with this? Of course! Now we can all play together," he answered, smiling. "And besides, even if I wasn't, it's not like we could do anything about it. Right?"

Eren nodded and gave a half smile back, glad that his friend seemed fine with this new discovery, even though he wasn't so comfortable with it himself. He liked Armin as his and only his friend—he knew how selfish that sounded, but it was the truth. Eren enjoyed, even relished, the fact that he was the only one Armin could talk to and confide in, the only one who knew he was truly there and not just a rumor. The more reasonable side of him knew that Mikasa wouldn't be any bother, though. If they wanted space she would give them it. That was how she worked and always would.

Mikasa returned soon after, taking her spot on the floor again and beginning to arrange the puzzle, starting with finding the corner pieces. Armin soon began to help, as did Eren. The three made fast progress on it and completed the one-thousand piece puzzle in less than twenty minutes.

"You're very good at puzzles, Armin," Mikasa commented as the ghost boy put the final piece in place. It was true; Armin seemed to be a whiz at anything that involved sorting, organizing, and placement, as well as academics.

"Thanks," he said softly, scooting back to get the full view. "I used to always do puzzles with my mom when I was younger."

"What happened to your parents?" Eren blurted out before thinking. Mikasa shot him a glare and he instantly regretted asking.

Armin replied by shrugging his shoulders and looking down, taking a piece of his long blond hair in his fingers and twisting it. "It was when I was five. They had to go on a trip out of country. They were only supposed to be gone for a few days. After a week, my grandfather and I received a letter saying that they hadn't shown up and had been declared missing. That's the last we ever heard about them," he murmured. "Nobody really knows what happened to them."

"That's terrible," Mikasa frowned, putting a hand on his cold shoulder. "I'm sorry that happened."

But Armin wasn't finished. "And then I died too. The first thing I thought when I opened my eyes and realized I was dead was; where are my parents? And then my grandfather…" his voice wavered. "Then he committed suicide and I had nobody left. I've just been stuck here with no place to go…I can't even see my family, even when I literally have nothing to live for!" he cried out, tears spilling over his eyes and both hands holding his head.

"You have us, Armin," Eren pleaded, trying to get his friend to calm down.

"You don't get it, Eren!" Said boy cringed, never having heard Armin yell before. It didn't suit him and he didn't like it. "You don't get it," he repeated, voice lower. "You can't possibly understand how _miserable _it is here for me. I see kids my age with families everywhere and it hurts! It hurts because I'll never be able to have that with mine because they're all _dead. I'm _dead—and the dead aren't supposed to _watch others live while they can't!"_

Eren and Mikasa's eyes were both wide, watching in horror as the small ghost's body became distorted and blurred before he took a deep breath and terrible, abnormal sobs began racking his body. Then his image vanished completely, his overwhelming, frightening presence erased from the room. But the haunting sounds of the tortured boy's cries didn't leave, echoing off the room's walls until finally fading into an eerie quiet.

Mikasa was breathing deeply and looking around the room frantically. "Is he gone?" she whispered.

Eren nodded, eyes wide with fear. What they had just witnessed hadn't been that of a calm spirit. No, it had been something entirely different. Something he was afraid of. "I shouldn't have asked that," the brunet admitted, clenching his teeth.

"You shouldn't have, you're right," Mikasa agreed. "But there's nothing we can do now but hope he doesn't come back."

"Hope he doesn't come back?" Eren furrowed his brows. "No, I promised him I would help him… he has to come back!"

"Eren, listen to me!" Mikasa practically yelled, her voice suddenly laced with panic. "That _thing _was dangerous. Look at what happened." She pointed at the window, which Eren saw was cracked.

Gulping, he steeled his nerves. "We have to help him, Mikasa. He needs help. Please, help me help him."

The two had a stare down; Mikasa's face stony, eyes icy. Eren's eyes burned with his usual intense, determined look that meant he couldn't be wavered no matter what anyone tried. Finally, the girl gave in.

"Fine," she sighed. "I'll help—on one condition."

"And that is?"

"For you not to be with him alone. I will be there too."

"What!? Why?"

"Eren."

Eren knew he couldn't get out of it and he needed Mikasa's help on gathering resources and intelligence. "Fine," he agreed reluctantly. He was more worried about Armin's safety than his own.

"Okay," Mikasa nodded. "Do you have any ideas on what to do?"

"Christa," he stated. "We need to talk to Christa."

* * *

"Oh, hi, Mikasa. Hi, Eren. Glad to see you're back."

"Hello, Christa."

Eren had informed Mikasa of what Sasha's mom had told him and Armin about Christa's family having dealt with ghosts before. Mikasa had, to Eren's surprise, already befriended Christa in the few days he had been absent and said she was very nice and easygoing. The three idly chitchatted, the two waiting for the right moment to bring up talking to her parents.

Armin, as they predicted, hadn't shown up for the past two days. The brunet noted that when he got distressed he disappeared. It stressed him out more than it should because he wanted to know his friend was okay. The harrowed cries still lingered in his mind, replaying over and over again. He truly hoped he was alright.

Setting that aside, Eren knew he had to focus on the task at hand; getting to see Christa's parents. Deciding Mikasa was taking too much time and sugar coating it way too much, he took the lead. "Christa, we need to see your parents. Do you think we could talk to them?"

The petite blonde looked confused. She cocked her head and asked, "What do you need my parents for?"

Mikasa gave Eren a glare before returning her attention to her friend. "Sorry, we're doing some research on something and thought your parents could be helpful. Is that alright with you?"

"Of course," she smiled warmly. "What are you doing research on?"

"It's a secret," Eren said before Mikasa could respond.

"Well, okay. I'll give you our address and you can stop by any time you want." The girl tore part of a piece of paper out of her notebook and neatly wrote out the letters in her large, girly hand writing that looked like it should be a font. "Maybe we could play, too."

Mikasa gave a friendly nod and smile before dragging Eren back to their desks and sitting him down. "When would you like to go?"

"Today," he answered without hesitation. "Let's go today."

Mikasa didn't object and the two found themselves walking home after school let out to inform their parents they were going on a walk. After the somewhat convincing lie was told—they didn't want to risk their parents coming with them and ruining their chance—they set out for the Renz family home. Using Mikasa's brilliant sense of direction, they found it quickly.

"Holy crap…" Eren muttered, looking up at the biggest house he had even seen. It was a two-story house with lots of windows and expensive building materials, such as brick and stone, instead of the usual wood on the outside. Mikasa looked surprised as well.

They walked up the porch and knocked on the door, praying that Christa answered. Thankfully, when the door opened, it was her.

"Oh! I didn't know you would be stopping by today," she laughed. That was when Eren saw a taller head look above her, short brown hair pulled back into a hairclip. Ymir.

"Did you invite these two, Christa?" Ymir asked with distaste, putting her arms on top of the blonde's head.

"Ymir, be nice. And no, they wanted to talk to my parents. Come on in," she replied, opening the door wider for them to step in. The interior was just as nice as the outside. Expensive, plush furniture decorated the foyer, as well as a large rug. It was also very clean.

"Wow," Eren said under his breath as he stepped in, fighting the urge to kick off his shoes into a random place like he did at home.

"Yeah, it's pretty big," Christa smiled bashfully, a light pink color spreading across her cheeks.

"Come on, let's go back upstairs," Ymir whined, tugging her towards the staircase that could be seen from the foyer.

"You go on, I'll meet you up."

Rolling her eyes, the brunette relented and stomped up the stairs, making her annoyance obvious. "Sorry," Eren apologized. "I guess we should have asked if you were busy today."

"Oh, don't mind her. She's always like that. I'll show you where my parents are."

The two exchanged a glance and followed the bubbly blonde as she led them through the house. Eren gawked at nearly everything they passed; it was all so nice. He wished they had _this _much money. Finally, she stopped at a closed door in a long hallway.

"This is my dad's study," she informed them. "My mom is usually out back, but…" Christa paused. "I don't really suggest going to see her. She doesn't like guests."

"Why—"

"Thank you, Christa. We're sorry to have bothered you," Mikasa interrupted Eren's upcoming question.

"It's okay, really," Christa smiled. Ymir yelled something unintelligible from upstairs, making the small girl jump. "I guess I should go keep her occupied. If you want to come play when you're done, we'll be upstairs!" With that, she turned and ran the other way, telling Ymir that she was coming.

Eren was surprised it had been this easy. Without thinking, he reached for the doorknob and was about to open it when Mikasa grabbed his hand and pulled it away. "Knock first," she instructed. Huffing, he knocked on the wooden door, sticking his tongue out at his sister.

There was some shuffling inside the room and the door opened a few seconds later, revealing a tall man with a moustache and dark hair, dressed in a fine suit. He looked confused as to why there were two strangers in his house. "Who are you?" he asked in a deep voice that resonated business.

"We're friends with Christa," Mikasa answered. "We requested to speak with you."

"Friends with Christa? She's upstairs with Ymir. I didn't know she had invited more friends," Mr. Renz replied. "Well, no matter. What is it you need?"

"Information," Eren said. The man raised a questioning eyebrow and allowed them to enter his study. Bookshelves filled with books and various other items lined the left and right walls, a large window on the back wall. An ornate desk with many papers and books upon it faced the entrance to the room. A large, lush, red velvet chair was in the corner by the door, a potted plant in the other. The chair behind the desk was similar to that in the corner.

Overall, it looked like money had thrown up everywhere, leaving behind one of the nicest rooms Eren could possibly imagine. They shuffled into it, Mr. Renz closing the door behind them and going to sit behind his desk. Once seated, he leaned backwards in his chair, never taking his gaze off of Eren and Mikasa.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked, motioning with his hand for them to talk.

"Oh," Eren said. "Well, we wanted to know about ghosts, spirits, stuff like that. We heard you did that kind of stuff…"

"You wouldn't happen to be the two that recently moved into the old Arlert home, would you?" the man questioned, a smile tugging on his lips.

"Yes," Mikasa replied. "We heard about the rumors and wanted to dig a little deeper into it."

"Ah, the rumors. Do you believe them?"

Eren gulped, wondering if saying the wrong thing would somehow lure this guy over to their house to try to exorcise Armin. "No, but we just want to know more about ghosts."

"Well, you've come to the right place," Mr. Renz said, placing his hands on the desk. "What would you like to know? Anything specific? Questions?"

"Actually, yes," Eren replied, remembering the one his mind had cooked up. "Can spirits be angry or hostile?"

"Yes, they can. There are evil spirits that haunt places. They often have regrets and can't move on. Or they're angry about something that happened."

"And how would you get them to move on if that were the case?" Mikasa asked.

The man pondered it for a moment. "If it has regrets, then it needs to fulfill them. There would have to be something weighing it down to Earth, binding it here instead of allowing it to go wherever it needed to."

"Can they hurt people?"

"If they're angry enough, yes."

"What if they never get to fulfill their regrets?"

"Then they won't leave."

"What if they don't have any regrets and they're just sad?" Eren asked, picking up his questioning speed. Mikasa nudged him in the side

"I'm not sure, boy. Now slow down, you're making my mind race," Mr. Renz laughed. "Do you think you've seen a ghost?"

"No," he lied, "have you?"

"I haven't seen a real one, no, but I've seen enough evidence to be led to believe that they do exist. Some are hostile, some are not."

"Are there any in between?"

"I suppose there could be," the man responded. Reaching down, he opened one of the drawers in the desk and rummaged through. "Here it is," he said to himself, apparently having found what he was looking for. Eren and Mikasa watched as he pulled out a small book with a worn cover and handed it to them.

"What's this?" Mikasa asked, taking and inspecting the leather bound book. The title read _Spirits._ She flipped to a random page and scanned it. It was hand written with little pictures drawn here and there. It seemed like some sort of journal.

"That there is an antique; a novelty. One of a kind. It's a research journal made by a ghost watcher several decades ago. Surprisingly, he made more discoveries than we have today. His journal is filled with information about the topic. I'm sure you'll find it helpful," Mr. Renz smiled.

"Are you giving it to us?" Eren queried.

The man nodded. "On one condition, though. You let me walk around the area, see if there's any unusual activity going on."

"What area?"

"Your land, child. I'll give you the book in exchange for allowance to be on your property," Mr. Renz said.

"Sorry, but we decline," Mikasa said, mirroring Eren's uneasy thoughts about having the man loiter around their house. He could be a danger to Armin. "You may have your book back."

"It seems important to you, though," he said, pushing away the book when she offered it back to him. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to reconsider my offer? You're declining my offer of an invaluable resource just because you don't want me to take a stroll in the neighborhood?"

"Yes," she answered. "That is correct."

After contemplating his next words, Mr. Renz spoke again. "I'll tell you what. Since I'm a nice man, I'll let you keep the book. Free of charge."

"Thank you, sir," Eren said quickly, grabbing Mikasa's arm and quickly pulling her towards the door. "Tell Christa we said bye."

"Thank you for stopping by, be safe on your way home," Mr. Renz said too cheerfully. They exited the room, slamming the door shut behind them. Mikasa clutched the book close to her chest, a strained look on her face. Eren was agitated as well. Something about that man didn't sit right with him, like an egg you didn't know was rotten until you cracked it open.

They hastily made their way back to the foyer and out the front door, both breaking into a sprint as soon as they were outside. They eventually slowed their pace when they reached the rest of the village, feeling safer away from the Renz house despite its one friendly inhabitant. Neither of their nervousness went away until they were safe in their own home, tucked away in Eren's room and searching through the book that could make or break their case.

* * *

_For those who were wondering, Christa's house was not a mansion or anything. I imagined its size about as big as a normal house today, considering they live in a small village in cottages. So pretty big for that time. _  
_Thank you, as always, to my Beta reader for this fic: MarluxiaSutcliff116 ! She's amazing at what she does and everybody should check her out. (Her fics are also amazing, too!)_


	6. Fear in a Box

_I'm so sorry for the late update. I've been busy with a lot of things, so I'll be back on track soon. :) This chapter is un-betaed (for now, at least)._

_And now stuff people actually care about. This is the first chapter with Armin's point of view I've written. Let me know how you guys like it, I was kind of nervous that I would make him a little OOC or something. So the ball has finally dropped and the plot is rolling._

_Reviews are greatly appreciated! I love to hear feedback._

* * *

Eren was walking through the woods alone, so he was surprised when he heard the sound of a twig snapping right next to him. His first thought was that Mikasa had already finished her task and had found him, but he saw that was not so when he turned. A sense of relief instantly washed over him as soon as he saw who it was.

"Armin!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around the ghost boy.

"Hey," Armin said sheepishly, smiling. It had been nearly a full week since the incident, and Eren had begun to worry his friend had left for good.

"Where did you go? Are you okay?" he pried, releasing his friend.

"Honestly, I don't know. I kind of lost control, I guess…" Armin admitted. "Then I was just kind of stuck in limbo. I can't really remember, actually. All I know is that I couldn't come back. I don't know what changed, though."

"That's strange. I'm glad you came back." Eren offered him a smile before snapping his fingers. "Oh, yeah! We got some really helpful information from this book Christa's dad gave us. He was kind of weird, though."

"Weird? How so?" Armin questioned. "And what book?"

"Some old journal about ghosts and spirits. He tried to make us pay for it by allowing him to search our land. We turned him down, though, and in the end he just gave us it. Pretty strange, right?"

Armin gulped. "So you didn't make a deal with him, right?"

Furrowing his brows, Eren assured him that they hadn't.

"Okay, good. It's bad to get involved with businessmen, is all. So what are you doing?"

The brunet was glad for a topic change; for some reason, the conversation about Mr. Renz made him uncomfortable and squirmy. "Looking for branches Mikasa and I can use to build a fort," he answered.

"A fort?"

"Yeah! We're going to make it really big and camp out in it!"

Armin chuckled. "I don't know if you'll be able to make a fort, but you can probably make some sort of hut."

Eren shrugged. "Whatever, it'll be good enough. Mikasa it looking for anything else we could use for it. She's probably out here somewhere," he said, waving his arms around. "She'll be glad to know you're back."

Armin was silent for a moment. "Will she?" he asked quietly, fidgeting with his hands.

"Of course! Why wouldn't she?"

"I don't…" He stopped, looking away.

Eren decided not to push, even though he thought he knew the answer. Getting back to the task at hand, he asked, "See any good branches anywhere?"

Armin looked around, obviously thankful for the change of topic. "How about over there?" He pointed to a large, fallen tree. It had mostly likely been struck by lightning a while ago; Eren could see the charred wood on it.

Nodding, he made his way over to it, crunching leaves under his feet. He loved that sound. It reminded him of his old friends in the city, raking every leaf in sight to make a big pile of fun. They normally did it in the park, where there was lots of greenery and trees. It made for the perfect fall afternoon. It was even better when his mom supplied him with hot apple cider afterwards, making sure he wasn't too cold.

Eren smiled to himself as he picked up a loose branch, surprised at its light weight. Armin found one as well, and the two set them down in a pile near the tree.

As they gathered more around it, Armin spoke up. "I'm glad to see that you and Mikasa are getting along better," he commented.

"Yeah, well…" Eren replied, not exactly sure what to say.

"She's a nice girl. How did your family adopt her?"

Hefting up another branch and tossing it into the pile, Eren answered, "Her parents were killed in a landslide on a mountain where she lived while she was at school one day. My father had been going over to check on her mom, who was pregnant. He found their house crushed, and after the rubble was moved to check for any bodies, he found her parents' bodies too."

"That's awful," Armin whispered.

"Yeah. So, long story short, Mikasa came to live with us," he finished.

"When was this?"

"About three years ago." He paused before adding, "Don't tell Mikasa I told you. She doesn't like for people to know."

"I won't," he promised.

Concluding that they had gathered enough branches from one tree, the two began the tedious task of hauling it back to the designated area of where the fort—or hut—would be built. After three trips, they finally got the last of it back.

"Whew," Eren said, wiping his brow. Even though the branches had been somewhat light, there were a lot of them. "I think we have enough now."

"I sure hope so; you look tired," Armin said.

"And you aren't?"

"Ghost, remember? I don't get tired," the blond smirked.

"Eren!"

Just as Eren was about to say a witty comeback, Mikasa burst out of the forest, panting from running.

"Mikasa, what's wrong?" he asked.

Mikasa gave Armin a quick glance and then returned her focus on Eren. "It's him…" she gasped. "He's here."

"Who's here? What's wrong?" Eren asked again, more urgent this time.

"Mr. Renz."

* * *

Peeking out from behind the tree the three stood behind, Eren watched with animosity as the tall man that was Mr. Renz poked around bushes and trees in the forest. "That bastard…" he whispered dangerously. "We told him he couldn't come!"

"Shhh," Mikasa hushed him, putting a finger on his mouth.

"I can't believe you guys actually went to him…" Armin muttered. "What do we do?"

Eren stood, tired of crouching. "We find out what he's doing, that's what."

"No, we don't," Mikasa said, shooting him down. "We watch and wait—and _if _we were going to do _anything, _you wouldn't be participating," she said, looking at Armin.

The ghost boy bit his lip. "But—"

"No, she's right," Eren agreed. "If he's here to look for you, we're definitely not letting _you _be near him."

Armin looked dejectedly at the forest floor, murmuring something about them being right. Mikasa and Eren focused their attention once again on the man, contemplating what to do.

"Maybe we should tell Mom and Dad," Mikasa offered.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Eren replied.

"It's no use," Armin countered. "What could they do? He's a rich and powerful businessman; the highest in the area. There's no way your family could press charges against someone like him and win."

No matter what they came up with, someone always found a flaw in the plan. They couldn't tell their parents, they couldn't tell the locals, they couldn't approach him, etc. They finally settled for just observing him from a far to see what he was doing. Armin offered to spook him away, but that would clearly backfire on them.

Sighing, Eren slumped against a tree, tired of watching the man after thirty minutes. "Maybe he's harmless," he said lamely.

"Until he gets closer to the house," his sister reminded him, eyes still trained on Mr. Renz. He was still doing the same stupid thing over again; turning over rocks, batting bushes, searching around trees.

"Well, we can't stand around here forever. I'm heading back," the brunet said, turning and stalking off. Hopefully Mr. Renz decided he was on a wild goose chase and packed up and left. Unfortunately, he knew that would probably not be the case.

Armin caught up to him, soon followed by Mikasa and the trio silently made their way away from the snooping man and out of the forest, welcoming the sight of home. The large branch pile forgotten, they went inside and up to Eren's room, where Eren said he had to show Armin the book.

"Here it is," he said, pulling it out of its spot on the bookshelf, right next to the book about the ocean. "Take a look."

"Looks old," the blond commented, turning the book over to the back and back to the cover. "Looks like my grandfather's book, only smaller."

"You're right," Eren speculated. Mikasa scanned the bookshelf, looking for something to entertain herself with while the two boys looked over the book. Armin found it truly fascinating, reading it like he would read any other book instead of reading it like something that could save him.

"The idea that spirits are actually connected to other people is interesting," he commented. "Any idea who wrote this?"

Eren shook his head. "Look," he said, flipping to a specific page that had caught his eye while reading. Looking at the page, he read, "_An angry spirit is a tainted soul and may not be allowed to leave its inhabitance. Others are the key to cleansing_."

Armin chewed on his bottom lip. "You don't think I'm a… tainted soul, do you?" he asked skittishly.

"You _are_ angry, aren't you, Armin?" Mikasa inquired, not even looking up from her book.

"I-I guess," he answered, looking around the room nervously.

"Do you know what you're angry about?" Eren canvassed.

Taking a deep breath, the ghost boy said, "I don't want what happened last time to happen again."

Mikasa now looked up, set down her book, and grasped Armin's hand in her own. She looked him in the eyes. "Armin, you'll be okay. You can do it."

After a moment's hesitation, he answered, "Alright."

Nodding, Mikasa pulled back and watched him intently. Eren did the same, waiting for him to begin.

"I'm angry about… a lot of stuff, actually," the ghost boy confessed. "Well, I don't know if you could call everything a feeling of 'anger' or not, but you get the idea." He took another deep breath before starting.

"My family. I'm angry that my parents never came back… that they died like that, without leaving a trace. Then my grandfather. I was so angry that he didn't have the will to carry on when I had to, and sad that he became so depressed in such little time. He could have gotten over me, I know it. He got over my mom; he would still be here today if he had tried.

"I'm jealous of all the kids that get to lead a normal life. I guess I technically _am _still a child, but it doesn't really count. I can't do anything, really, and that bothers me. I wished I could have eaten that muffin the other day, Eren. I really did. It made me so frustrated that I couldn't, and when I can't do something because of a limit, it frustrates me. And then there's the bullies. I always tried to tell myself that they couldn't get to me, that none of their words ever reached me, but it was a futile effort. I hated myself most of my life because of them. I longed for them to stop, but I never did anything about it, because I didn't want to get them in trouble and have them come after me even more. I wished that they knew how I felt.

"I was weak—I still am. I wanted friends and a normal, happy life. Instead, all I got for my worthless existence was an illness that killed me. And now, after such a long time, I'm still here. It frustrates me to no end that I can't figure out how to leave, only disappear for a while. Eren, when I disappeared and couldn't get back… I thought I had finally been released. When I came back…" he faltered, looking up and meeting the brunet's green eyes.

"I get it," Eren said, nodding.

"Are you okay?" Mikasa asked softly.

Armin took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. "Yes, that felt good, actually," he admitted, running a hand through his hair.

She breathed a sigh of relief as well and picked up her book. "That's good," was all she said before she went back to reading and effectively tuning out Eren and Armin.

"So now what?" the blond questioned.

"Eren! Mikasa! Dinner time!" Carla called up to them.

"We get dinner," Eren answered, stomach rumbling at the thought of food.

"I think I'll just stay up here."

The brunet debated asking his friend to come with him anyways, but decided against it. "Okay," he said. "Come on, Mikasa."

Mikasa put down her book and hopped off the bed, following Eren out of the room and leaving Armin to himself.

o/o

Armin sat on Eren's bed, focusing all his concentration on his arm as it went through the bed. It was a trick he had begun to work on; going through objects. He could only do it partially, though. The most he had ever gotten through was his head through a wall, which had almost gotten stuck when he couldn't pull it off again for an hour.

Sighing, he pulled it out and sat back against the pillows, unsure of what to do but not wanting to go downstairs to torture himself with the sight of a delicious meal. He turned over and buried his face in the pillows, letting out a long moan.

As he sat there, his thoughts kept coming back to the man in the woods. Was he still out there? What did Mr. Renz really want? The questions irritated him because he couldn't find out. He decided he needed some fresh air.

Climbing out of the bed, he went to the window and opened it, then crawled onto the roof of the cottage. This had been his escape place when he needed to have a nice long cry after a hard day. Of course, he wasn't going to cry now, but he had always liked the scenery from up high.

The wind blew through his hair, moving it around and into his face. Armin wished he could truly feel it. He longed for when it was able to turn his skin a bright red when it was extremely cold out.

Thinking about the cold reminded him of the night Eren had fallen into the pond, and a shiver went up his nonexistent spine. He had been so genuinely frightened that Eren would catch something that he almost thought he would get anxiety—if that could even happen. If his friend had gotten pneumonia, he would have bawled his eyes out at the thought of Eren on his deathbed. Yes, of course he was rational enough to know that the sickness didn't always kill, but the part of him that was always scared got the best of his right mind and filled it to the brim with paranoia.

Even though he had only known Eren and Mikasa for less than a month, he considered them the most cherished friends he had ever had. And ever would have.

Armin watched as the clouds floated lazily above him, trees swaying in the wind and some of the final leaves of fall dropping. He found it funny that his birthday had passed already; he had forgotten about it completely. Eren and Mikasa didn't even know about it. He briefly wondered when their birthdays were when something moving caught his eye.

He didn't even have to see the features of the figure to know who it was. Mr. Renz was approaching the house, going at a faster pace than necessary.

_What's going on? _Armin thought, getting up from his spot and going to the edge of the roof. He jumped without a moment's hesitation, knowing that he wouldn't get hurt from the fall. As always, he landed lightly on the ground and watched as the man came closer, holding some sort of small box in his hands.

He stopped a little ways from where Armin stood. "I know you're here!" he called. "Show yourself, ghost!"

The blond jumped. Questions whirled through his mind like a tornado, knocking over anything else that might be in the way. Could he see him? Could he hear him? Was he going to do something?

More importantly, though, Armin didn't know what to do. Ignoring him was probably the best option. As much as he wanted the man off their property, he knew if he didn't find anything he would eventually give up. It might take a while, but he would.

So he watched. Mr. Renz walked around the general area, waving his little box. Whenever he got too close, Armin moved away. He had a feeling that the instrument in his hands did more than he thought, and he didn't want to risk activating whatever it did—if it did anything, really.

He trailed behind Mr. Renz as he crept along the sides of the house, avoiding any windows. Then he made it to the side of the house with the cellar and opened the trapdoor.

Armin nearly called out and told him to stop when he went in, but caught himself, not wanting to test if he could be heard or not. Instead, he found himself following him into it, grimacing as he did.

The cellar was how he remembered, only darker and mustier. He could only imagine what it smelt like when Mr. Renz plugged his nose and ventured in. He winced at every creak the old steps made as he went down them, holding his breath when Mr. Renz turned around once.

Once they were at the bottom, the man began nose around. Armin regretted coming down here. Not only did it resurface memories he wished to forget, but it gave him the creeps.

_What am I even doing, following around this man?_

There was no answer. Curiousity pushed him forwards, as well as the feeling of responsibility if Mr. Renz somehow messed something up.

The man was silent as he went through the rows of bookshelves set up like a library, waving his box around even more. It must have been some sort of ghost detection device; Armin didn't even know things like that existed.

Then, he spoke. "Oh, God, if there is anything unholy in this room, bring him to me. Summon him and he will be released. Please."

Armin froze, watching as Mr. Renz pulled out a book from under his large jacket. "Put his soul where it belongs," he continued, opening it to a bookmarked page. "Let him rest, now."

He was scared. He waited, still frozen in place, praying nothing would happen. Mr. Renz stood still as well, clutching the book and box tightly. Armin decided it was as good a time as any to leave, not wanting to spend another minute in the cellar with this crazy man. He began to tiptoe towards the exit, looking back to make sure Mr. Renz wasn't doing anything.

He wasn't. Not until Armin slammed into a bookshelf right in front of him, producing the loudest sound possible.

_No! _

Books tumbled out of their place, landing hard on the ground. Something glass that had been there fell as well and shattered. Mr. Renz whipped his head towards the sound and Armin knew instantly he had to get out.

The man rushed over, a mad gleam in his eyes, reaching it just as Armin snapped out of his shocked daze and made a mad dash for the stairs that led to the trapdoor above. He looked over his shoulder for a millisecond and saw Mr. Renz was taking off for the exit as well. A feeling of pure panic took over his small body as he raced up the stairs. He knew his pursuer was hot on his trail by the mad creaking below him.

Armin didn't even care that he was making it more and more obvious he was actually there as he shoved the trapdoor open, revealing the evening light. He didn't stop to bask in it, though, and took off sprinting.

His light form made his running faster than the average person's, and he quickly lost the crazed man. His shouts eventually faded behind him and Armin knew he had lost him. He was so overwhelmed and scared at being caught that he began to cry; a bad habit of his he could never seem to get rid of. What would Eren and Mikasa say at knowing he had given himself away?

It was all his fault that the man would be coming back for more soon. He was putting their family in danger. There had to be something he could do. He wouldn't just be useless anymore!

Resolving to fix the problem he had created without letting either of his friends know, Armin wiped away his tears and stood—he didn't even remember sitting. It took him a moment to realize where he had run off to; his second place of comfort.

His grandfather's grave stood only a few dozen feet away, looking more weathered than ever despite only being a year old. Armin sniffed and walked up to it, a knot of guilt forming in his chest. He realized he hadn't visited since the day at school when Eren saw him. Even though it hadn't been that long, really, he still felt bad for not coming by.

He looked at the smaller tombstone by his grandfather's, averting his eyes from the words etched in stone. The words announcing his death.

He suddenly felt the same hollowness he had felt when he realized that his life would endlessly repeat itself. It was the feeling he had always carried around with him before meeting Eren, and he had never wanted to see it again.

Distracting himself, the blond walked around the area, picking any flowers he could find and arranging a small bouquet, tying it together with a stem. He walked back over to the grave and gently placed it on the soft, grassy ground. Taking a step back, he realized how nice it was to have flowers on _his _grave.

Maybe Eren and Mikasa would come by when he finally passed on to the next world. Maybe they would lay flowers on his grave like he did on his grandfather's for the year. Maybe they would stop and chat for a while. Thoughts of his two friends filled his mind, managing to push away his troubles.

For a moment, as quick as it was, Armin felt hope blossom in his chest.


	7. Puzzle Pieces

Eren had returned to his room to see that Armin had vanished. Trying not to give it a second thought, he looked at the book Mikasa had been interested in. Picking it up off his bed, he turned it to the cover and read _Space._

It was filled with amazing photos of stars and planets; some that Eren had never even heard of. He spent the next ten or so minutes skimming until Mikasa bounded up the stairs and into his room, finished with whatever chore their parents had set her to. "Have you seen Armin?" he asked her when she entered.

"No, I thought he would be up here with you, so I rushed to finish."

"Are you still worried that he'll hurt us or something?" Eren sighed.

She didn't hesitate to nod, showing that she still didn't trust Armin. Eren tossed her the book and stalked out of the room, frustrated and annoyed that she wouldn't accept that the ghost boy was harmless—well, at least he thought so.

He walked out the front door, ignoring the questioning glance his mother sent him. Upon exiting, he was greeted with a cold blast of late fall air, regretting not grabbing his jacket. Surprised that Mikasa hadn't attempted to follow him out, Eren hopped off the porch and began his trek to the one place he thought Armin would be.

His assumption proved to be correct. "Armin!" he called to the ghost boy kneeling in front of two graves. The blond turned, wind brushing his hair in his face and causing him to yank it back.

"Hi, Eren," he said as Eren approached.

"I thought I'd find you here," the brunet replied, plopping down next to his friend. Seeing Armin's growing annoyance with his hair, he added, "I could get you a hair tie or something. My mom has a few extras."

Armin chuckled. "Yeah, it is pretty long, isn't it? Maybe I should cut it."

"How short? As short as mine?" For some reason, Eren found himself wanting Armin to keep it long. It fit him.

"No, probably not. I actually like it long," Armin responded. "…People used to tease me about it, though."

"I think it suits you," Eren spoke quickly.

"Really? Thanks." The ghost boy's face lit up with a smile.

Eren smiled as well before his thoughts returned to who might be lurking in the woods. "Any sign of Mr. Renz?"

He didn't miss when Armin clenched his teeth together. "No, I haven't seen him." After a pause, he added, "Maybe he gave up."

"Yeah, hopefully."

Something in Armin's tone made Eren doubt him; like he was hiding something. Concluding that his friend had no reason to lie, he decided to let it go. "How long have you been sitting out here?" he asked instead.

"I don't know. I guess a while."

"Wanna head back, then?"

With a smile, the ghost boy nodded his head and stood. As they walked back, Eren also decided not to ask about the flowers that had lain on the smaller grave. In an attempt to make conversation, Armin asked, "Where's Mikasa?"

"I left her in my room."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Do I have to spend every minute of the day with her?" Eren snapped.

"Sorry," Armin apologized, shrinking into himself. Eren immediately felt bad and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Sorry," he said as well. "She… she doesn't trust you yet. Not fully, anyways," he admitted.

"Oh," the other said dejectedly. Even though he pretended to shrug it off, Eren could see the hurt in his pale blue eyes. "Do you think she ever will after… well, you know."

"Of course! She's just worried, is all," Eren reassured him. After giving a small nod, Armin turned away so that he couldn't see his face, walking like that the rest of the way.

They soon reached Eren's house, relishing in the warmth that it brought. There was going to be some snow soon; the brunet could feel it.

Eren was confused to see that his room was Mikasa-free; he had been expecting her to camp out there until he returned. Backtracked to his sister's room, leaving Armin to get out the game they had decided to play, he peered in through the door that stood ajar. Surprisingly enough, Mikasa was there, sitting on her bed and doing nothing.

She was almost never in her room, claiming it was about as exciting as watching paint dry in there. The only times she went in it were to sleep and change, but other than that, she was elsewhere. Eren failed to see the difference between his room—which she seemed to spend an adequate amount of time in—and hers.

She sat cross-legged, eyes closed and breathing steady. Deciding it was best not to interrupt whatever she was doing, Eren retreated from the door and quietly went back to his own room, where Armin had set up a board game.

The two played the game for a while, neither of them noticing how late it had gotten when they finally stopped after Mikasa had announced to the house she was going to sleep. Now that he thought about it, Eren was pretty sleepy as well. "Will you stay in here tonight?" he asked Armin as they put up the pieces.

Armin smiled and nodded. "Not like you need to ask, anyways. I normally do."

"Just making sure."

His friend looked amused at that as he put the game back in its place. Eren climbed into his bed, tucking himself into the covers like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Armin switched off the light, then went to sit in the desk chair and stare out the window. "Have you ever camped outside?" he asked idly.

Eren shook his head, even though he knew Armin couldn't see it. "No, have you?"

"Yes, actually. I went with my grandfather a couple years back. It was amazing; nature all around, nobody to disturb us… I loved it," Armin replied dreamily.

Eren snickered, imagining the boyish glint in his friend's eyes as he said that. Armin always got this look on his face when he talked about something he was passionate about; nature was one of those things. It wasn't surprising he loved camping.

"You should go someday," the blond continued. "I think Mikasa would like it as well."

"Probably," Eren said as he snuggled further under the covers as Armin went on to talk about the joys and wonders of camping and how they would love it but wait, would their parents let them? He sure hoped so because camping was so awesome—

Eren somehow fell asleep to the sound of his friend's excited chattering and, not surprisingly, dreamed about the three of them camping under the stars.

* * *

When the brunet awoke, it was still night. Or early morning, you could call it. Normally, he would have just gone back to sleep, but there was an odd chill in the air, like a draft. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and waited for them to adjust to the dark.

The source of the draft was evident. The window was cracked open, about an inch off the ground. Eren's first thought was a burglar until he got up and looked out it.

"Armin?" he said questionably, squinting his eyes at the translucent figure on the roof.

Armin jumped and turned around. "Eren? What are you doing?"

"I should be asking you the same," Eren replied, grunting as he pushed the window up and crawled out. He was greeted with a fresh blast of almost-winter air. Closing it, he said, "It's really cold!"

"You should go back to sleep, Eren. There's school tomorrow, you know," Armin reasoned.

"It's fine. It's a Friday."

Sighing, his friend relented, knowing it was nearly impossible to reason with Eren. "Don't complain to me when you're tired…"

"So what are you doing out here?" Eren questioned, drowning out Armin's mutters.

"I wanted to see the stars." After he didn't reply, Armin added, "Do you think there'll ever be a way to get up there?"

"I dunno," Eren shrugged. He wondered whether or not he was talking about going to heaven or going to space. Either one seemed out of reach.

"Stars are like the sky's freckles…" Armin murmured. "There's so many."

"You know who has a lot of freckles?"

"Who?"

"Marco," Eren said.

Armin smiled. "He's really nice, actually. I wish I could have been friends with him."

"I thought he hangs out with Jean?"

"He does, but that doesn't make him a bad person by association. In fact, I don't even think Jean is a bad person."

Eren furrowed his brows. "I thought he was one of the ones that made fun of you, though? How could that not make him a bad person?"

"Just because someone does something wrong doesn't make them a bad person. A sinner, yes, but not necessarily bad. Even though I know that, I…" he trailed off.

"You what?" Eren prodded.

Armin sighed. "I still… find it hard to forgive him. And everyone else, too."

Eren knew what he meant. He knew, firsthand, how hard it was to let something slide like water under a bridge. Despite that it wasn't his nature to forgive, he sometimes had to try to let the grudge go. Of course, those had been smaller problems compared to Armin's, but he knew well enough. "Yeah."

"It would be so much easier if I could talk to them."

After thinking about it for a moment, Eren snapped. "Maybe you can!" Grinning when he saw the confused look on Armin's face, he elaborated. "I can talk to them for you. You can tell me what to say when I'm talking to them and it'll be just like a real conversation!"

The blond face palmed and suppressed a chuckle. "Thanks for the offer, Eren, but I don't want you to have to turn into a prophet. It'd be hard enough to find the right words, anyway."

Then another light bulb went off in Eren's head. "But what if this is the answer?" he blurted out.

"The answer?"

"The answer!" he repeated. "What if… what if this is how we can release you?"

"What are you talking about?" Armin asked, sitting up and talking faster now.

"Let me get the book." He threw the window back open and hastily went through it, then rummaging through the bookshelf until he found it. Climbing back out of his room a shutting the window once again, he tossed it to Armin.

"Can one book really have all the answers…?" the ghost boy asked skeptically.

Taking it from the other's hands, Eren flipped around until he found a portion about what he was looking for. "Here, read this," he said, nudging it closer to Armin.

Armin picked it up and studied it closely, squinting. "This is the part about angry spirits," he said after reading it. "_Others are the key to cleansing. _What do you think this could mean?"

"I don't know," Eren admitted. "I mean, it says a lot of stuff about angry spirits and regrets. I think it means you can't do it alone."

"Or…" Armin murmured, forehead creasing in deep thought. "Maybe it means I _have _to forgive them? Getting to the root of my anger, maybe? I mean, my life already wasn't going so well and the bullies didn't make it any better…"

"They still make fun of you though, Armin," Eren snarled. He didn't see how forgiving the assholes that hurt Armin so much could help him. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he mumbled, "I don't see how you could forgive them."

"It'll have to be done, Eren. It just… won't be easy," Armin confessed. "Like I said, it'd be better if _I _was able to talk to them, but I don't think that's going to happen. Then again, the whole thing about Mikasa being able to see me is still confusing."

Right, Mikasa. Eren had completely forgotten about how it had been a shock she had suddenly been able to see Armin. She was now in his daily routine so much he forgot she hadn't always been able to see him. Still, he was at a loss of ideas. He wasn't the best at logical thinking and problem solving; most of his problems could be solved by a punch or two.

"I think we need to talk to her," Armin concluded. "Maybe she's holding a piece of the puzzle and she doesn't even know it."

* * *

"Alright class, take your seats!"

Ms. Hanji, peppy as always, ushered the last few stragglers into the small classroom, including Eren and Mikasa. Armin slipped in just before the door shut and class began. The three went to their normal seats in the back. It looked like it would be another boring school day.

As predicted, the day went by slowly; everyone was anxious for the weekend. The only highlight of the day was recess right after lunch. The trio loitered by the monkey bars, not participating in any of the games the other children were playing.

They were currently debating how babies were born—Mikasa had been curious—when something halted their conversation.

Jean Kirschtein was heading their way. Eren clenched his fist when he saw Armin visibly tremble. "Is there something you need?" he spat. Even if he hadn't known Jean had been one of Armin's tormentors, he would have hated his guts anyways. They did not get along well with each other.

"I'm not talking to you, Jaeger!" Jean retorted. Huffing, he turned to Mikasa and immediately stiffened. "I-I was wondering if you wanted to come play with us, Mikasa," he said, voice quivering.

Mikasa turned to Eren and Armin. Before Eren could shout "go die in a hole", Armin spoke up. "This could be our chance," he said.

Nodding, the girl faced Jean. "Okay," she answered.

The boy grinned like an idiot at her. "Really?"

"Yes. Let's go."

Eren watched as they walked off, his eye twitching when Jean turned and made a face at him. Rolling his eyes, he stuck up his pinky finger at him. It was the pinky, right? Or maybe it was the middle…

"I hope she'll be alright," Armin frowned.

"She'll be fine. She's Mikasa."

"True. I think Jean has a little crush on her."

"And we can use that to our advantage, right?"

"I hate to say it, but yes," the blond sighed. "If she can convince him I'm real, maybe he'll be able to see me. Isn't that what she said happened?"

"That I convinced her you were real? Yeah, but I don't know how. I don't even think I talked to her about you," Eren said.

"But it was right after you decided to give her a chance, remember? Maybe it was some kind of emotional connection…" Armin looked about as confused as Eren felt.

Groaning, Eren threw his head back. "So you're saying I have to make an emotional connection with _him?_" He pointed at the idiot chasing Mikasa and Mikasa only in their game of tag.

"Guess so," was his only response.

And that was how Jean ended up coming over that Saturday—much to Eren's dismay. The last thing he wanted to do was spend time with that horseface, but Carla insisted.

"It'll be good for you to play with another boy your own age," she had told him. He did; she just didn't know.

The four of them were upstairs in Eren's bedroom; Eren, Mikasa, and Jean playing a board game while Armin watched. After Eren calling out Jean for cheating for the umpteenth time, Carla and Jean's mom, Mrs. Kirschtein (who were having what they called 'mom bonding time'), told them to go outside.

There was absolutely nothing to do. "We could play tag," Jean offered.

"That's a stupid idea."

"Shut up! I don't see _you _coming up with anything better!"

Eren and Jean continued to bicker until the sound of a horse-drawn carriage could be heard. "Is that Dad?" Mikasa asked.

Shrugging, Eren got up to see, Armin following him and leaving the other two alone. "This could be going better," his friend mumbled.

"He's annoying as—" He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who was getting out of the carriage. It was definitely _not _his dad.

"Eren? What's wrong?" Armin asked, then following his gaze to the man now going to their front door. His eyes widened.

They took off, running back behind the house where Jean and Mikasa thankfully still sat. Mikasa immediately stood when she saw them. "What's wrong?" Her eyes darted around.

"Mr. Renz is here, and he's going to the house," Armin answered.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before nodding. They sprinted to the front of the house, Jean scrambling after them.

"Hey, what's wrong?!" he questioned once they stopped behind the corner of the house. Eren could hear the mumble of voices, but couldn't decipher them. And there was no way to get closer.

"Be quiet," Mikasa hissed at him. His mother's voice sounded outraged now, even threatening.

"I'll see what they're talking about," Armin announced. Without giving the others a chance to answer, he walked out from behind their hiding spot and up the stairs of the porch, standing nearly right beside the arguing adults.

It seemed like an eternity they stood there. Jean would occasionally ask something that Eren didn't care enough about to answer. No, his attention was on the man that seemed out to get them. Then, suddenly, Carla slammed the door in Mr. Renz's face. Eren watched as he strolled leisurely off of the porch and was about to get in his carriage when he decided he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Hey!" he yelled at the man. Mr. Renz stopped and turned, then smirked.

"Oh! Eren! It's a pleasure to see you. How's the book?" he said as if everything was okay. Mikasa, Jean, and Armin, who looked oddly pale, followed suit, standing by him. "And it looks like you've made a new friend as well," the man added.

"What do you want from us?" Mikasa questioned.

"Eren, Mikasa…" Armin said somberly.

"Why were you here the other day?" Eren asked.

"Now, now. This is adult business. You kids don't stick your noses into it and you'll be fine."

Jean was strangely silent, eyes full of animosity.

"Tell us what you were doing here!" Eren yelled.

Mr. Renz sneered. "Taking over this land."

* * *

_This is so late I know I'm sorry. Been busy with a lot of stuff (school and family), so hopefully I'll be able to get around to writing chapter 8 soon. As always, thanks to my Beta who has stuck with me all this time!_


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